


Naboo and the Marriage of Inconvenience

by A_Little_Boosh_Maid



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Alien Planet, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Drug References, Fluff, Forced Marriage, Friendship, M/M, Magic, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mildly Magical Dubcon, Post-Canon, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Content, There Were Two Beds!, Weddings, Yeah But One Wasn’t as Nice?, idiots to lovers, marry or die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24136414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Little_Boosh_Maid/pseuds/A_Little_Boosh_Maid
Summary: Naboo receives some unwelcome news from Xooberon: everyone on the planet is supposed to be married by the age of one hundred, or face execution. Now they’ve caught up with him, it looks as if only marrying Howard will save Naboo from certain death. But how will Vince feel about that? And will anything where the Shaman Council is involved turn out as expected?
Relationships: Howard Moon/Vince Noir
Comments: 23
Kudos: 41
Collections: Bringing Back the Boosh 2020 Fic Exchange





	Naboo and the Marriage of Inconvenience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Terrantalen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrantalen/gifts).



> Written for the 2020 Bringing Back the Boosh Fandom Gift Exchange from a prompt suggested by my giftee, Terrantalen. Thanks for the prompt, Terrantalen, and hope you enjoy the story! 
> 
> Huge thanks to The Shaman Council for their help and support with the story, in particular the amazing moderator and beta walkswithursus, who literally made sure that it was finished in time. I also accepted an idea suggested to me by Bob Skeleton.

Vince leaned his hip on the counter at Nabootique, pretending to re-organise a collection of junk jewellery displayed in a glass bowl. He risked a quick glance behind him at Howard, who was dutifully cataloguing a shipment of vintage button badges which had come in that morning. Vince tried to think of something sarcastic to say about the badges, but came up empty-minded. They actually looked pretty cool.

Vince imagined turning around, and saying, “Hey Howard, cool badges!” in a cheery voice, and then he slumped back over the counter. If he said that, Howard would look up in surprise, and then reply in a falsely hearty tone. Something like, “Yes indeedy, little man. These are badges of character”, and then he'd go back to his badges and Vince would keep pretending to sort through the junk jewellery. Whatever stalemate they were in, it was worse when they pretended to be nice to each other.

Things had been ... weird since Howard got back from Denmark, Vince thought. For a start, Howard had lost that shifty way of looking at Vince. As long as Vince had known him, Howard would never look at him straight, but take a quick shufti whenever he thought Vince was not looking back, then fall quietly to pieces whenever Vince caught him.

Now he barely seemed to take notice of Vince at all, his gaze simply sliding away from Vince as if he didn't exist. Although every once in a while Howard would stare quite openly across the Nabootique at him, with an expression which Vince could not interpret. Was it irritation? Boredom? Sometimes Vince thought it was one of deep and hopeless sadness, but then a second later Howard would look perfectly normal, and Vince would think he must have been mistaken.

Then, Howard had stopped locking himself into confined spaces in order to give himself Chinese burns. Vince had always been able to tell when one of these episodes was brewing. Howard would begin looking more and more panicked, then disappear, returning half an hour later with red marks all over his wrists, and an atmosphere of shame hanging over him.

Now when the panicked look came, Howard didn't run away. He would stand his ground quietly as if counting to a high number, then return to what he was doing. Rather pale and breathless, but with a faint air of satisfaction, like someone who has halted a minor accident, such as grabbing a glass in mid-air just as it topples off the kitchen bench.

It was all leaving Vince feeling off-kilter and unlike himself. For if Howard was not panicked and fearful, then Vince did not feel quite so steady on his feet. He wasn't so cocky, wasn't so sure of himself. And if Vince couldn't be sure of himself, then he wasn't sure of anything.

And everything else was strange, Vince thought resentfully. Their lives just kept going on in the same old routine. Get up, have breakfast, go to work, have dinner, watch TV, go to bed. On weekends Vince went out in Camden, but found that he kept leaving early, too bored to keep talking to the same dull faces, who kept saying the same dull things.

When he got home, Howard was usually reading. He'd look up from his book, say, “Oh, hi Vince. You're back early”. Vince would say, “Yeah, it was well boring tonight”. Howard would wait to see if Vince was going to say anything else, then go back to his book. Vince would fidget around for a bit, then usually end up idly flicking through the pages of _Cheekbone_.

Even _Cheekbone_ seemed a bit boring lately, and its fashion opinions had gone right off the boil. Just two hours ago, it had said that jumpsuits were uncool now, how stupid was that? Hopefully the new edition due in an hour would say they were back in again. In the meantime, Vince was wearing a big loose jumper over his jumpsuit to disguise it. Big loose jumpers were chic at the moment.

Naboo and Bollo were usually good for a laugh, but they never seemed to be around lately, always off on secret shaman business. There hadn't been any monsters, mermen, magic, or murderers for ages now. In fact, the very lack of weirdness in their lives was the weirdest thing of all …

****************************************

After all Vince's moaning inner monologue, their evening started out quite pleasantly. Howard popped down to the local pub after work for a quick pint, and came home in a good mood. He made macaroni cheese and fish fingers for dinner, one of Vince's favourites. Then Naboo brought out some delicious chocolate brownies, saying he'd made plain ones for Vince and Howard, and hash ones for himself and Bollo.

Instead of taking off on his flying carpet to hang out with the Shaman Council, Naboo stayed in to watch _Peacock Dreams_ on the telly. He and Bollo sat on the floor together, giggling insanely at the show and singing “Peacock dreams, dah dah dah, Peacock dreams, dah dah dah” to each other.

Vince gave Howard a little eye roll and a jerk of his head, to say, “What are they like, then?”, and Howard gave a shrug and a tiny smile, to mean, “I know, but let them have their fun”.

Vince whispered, “I can't see the telly properly from here”, and Howard gestured for him to shift closer, until Vince was sitting right next to Howard. After a while, he leant his head on Howard's shoulder. He felt Howard stiffen slightly, and then he gradually relaxed. It was nice, this. No talking that might end in hurt feelings, or feel hollow and artificial. Just sitting together on the sofa, neither of them watching the telly, but letting the images flicker in front of their eyes, unprocessed.

Not even thinking really, just enjoying the companionable silence … actually, Vince might be on the verge of having a little sleepie, snuggled up to Howard, and when that happened, Howard would quietly put an arm around him, telling himself it was necessary to stop Vince from sliding off the sofa. Simply thinking of safety, that's all.

Two-thirds of accidents happen in the home. A man of action must be aware of these things at all times. He doesn't need to be aware of how Vince's hair smells, or how tiny and fragile he feels … the softness of his big stupid striped jumper, the way his lips look when his mouth hangs open sleepily ... no sir, those awarenesses are strictly off the table.

It was at this moment that there was a loud bang, a flash of blue light, and a pillar of smoke in the lounge room. Vince almost fell off the sofa in surprise, but Howard caught him in time and hauled him back up. A blue-skinned giant, dressed rather like the genie in the last panto they'd gone to, appeared in front of them, still with remnants of smoke lingering around him.

“Naboo Randolph Roberdy Poberdy the Enigma?”, the giant enquired, looking down from his great height upon the tiny shaman.

“Yeah, that's me. What's it to you?”, Naboo said, his mouth full of hash brownie.

“A summons from The Most High Council of Xooberon”, said the giant, handing Naboo a large scroll. “It is time for you to fulfil your obligation”.

He crossed his arms, blinked, and disappeared, oblivious to the frozen look of horror on Naboo's face.

“Shouldn't he of given us three wishes?”, Vince said confusedly, still not quite awake.

“He wasn't a genie, you berk”, replied Naboo, too shocked to even sound testy. “He was a messenger”.

He opened the scroll with fingers that trembled slightly, and so unusual was it for Naboo to show nerves in any way, that Howard and Vince stared at him in surprise, and Bollo in concern.

The scroll was covered in strange squiggly writing that Vince couldn't read, and Howard thought he could only read with great difficulty, if he was closer to the parchment. Naboo gazed at it in a sort of a dumbfounded terror, and said faintly, “No … no. Not that. Anything but that”.

“What wrong, Naboo?”, asked Bollo worriedly. “Why you not breathe properly?”.

“What does the scroll say, Naboo?”, asked Howard, leaning forward.

“It says I haven't fulfilled my obligation to Xooberon society”, said Naboo in a dead little voice.

“What, you mean you forgot to vote or something?”, suggested Howard.

Naboo shook his head. “No elections on Xooberon”, he said. “We got a king”.

“Well, we've got a queen, but we still have elections”, argued Howard.

“What's the problem, anyway?”, Vince asked.

“Everyone on Xooberon is meant to fulfil their obligation by their hundredth birthday”, said Naboo. “I'm over four hundred years old, and they caught up with me”.

“Is there a fine you have to pay?”, Howard said. “Do you have enough money?”.

“No fine”, said Naboo listlessly. “I'll just be executed”. Bollo began weeping in distress.

There was a stunned silence, then Vince yelled, “They can't _do_ that!”.

“We won't let that happen”, said Howard firmly. “What _is_ the obligation, anyway? What were you meant to do?”.

Naboo mumbled something under his breath.

“Sorry, couldn't hear that”, Howard said, trying to sound patient.

“Get married”, Naboo said in a louder voice. “I'm meant to have married someone by now, and I never did”.

“So what?”, said Vince. “We can all be bachelors together. You don't have to do what they say”.

“Except for the part where I get executed, that sounds like a great plan”, Naboo said sarcastically.

“We'll find somebody to marry you, Naboo”, Howard promised. “I mean, Vince knows loads of girls around Camden. Or … um … does it have to be a girl? Are you restricted in who you can marry?”.

“Nah, we can marry any of the seven different genders on Xooberon, including our own”, Naboo assured him. “I mean, even here on Earth you can marry your own sex, and it's well backward”.

Howard bit back the retort that he'd been to Xooberon, and he thought the part they visited was extremely primitive. They still had slavery (as Howard knew to his cost), worshipped a Chosen One, and lived in tents.

“We know men as well, if you'd prefer. Can you marry a human?”, Howard asked, wondering if a girl from Camden would even be allowed as a marriage prospect. They were different species after all – would it be like a human marrying a dog or a dolphin?

“Yeah, anything. We're not prejudiced”, Naboo said. “As long as they can understand and recite the wedding vows”.

“I'll find someone to marry you, Naboo”, Vince said eagerly. “What do you want, and when do you have to be married?”.

“I'm not fussy. Anything to avoid execution. And by nine o'clock tomorrow morning, on Xooberon”, Naboo replied.

“Oh, er … that's a bit soon”, Vince said, looking worried. “I don't know anyone who even gets up that early, and they'd all need months to plan their outfit”.

“What about those Goth girls you and Bollo double dated?”, asked Howard. “Do you still have their number?”.

“They married now”, Bollo said, wiping his eyes. “To each other”.

“Your mate Pete from Dixons?”, asked Vince desperately.

“Haven't you met his wife?”, Naboo said in surprise. “He and Susie have been together forever.”.

“What about Leroy?”, asked Bollo hopefully.

“Oh sorry … Leroy got married only a fortnight ago”, Vince said. “Still on his honeymoon in the Alps, actually”.

They all racked their brains (Vince didn't rack his very hard), and then Howard said tentatively, “Er … could Bollo possibly step in? Since it _is_ an emergency”.

“I can't marry my familiar!”, said Naboo indignantly. “You've gone wrong”.

“Harold say what is forbidden!”, growled Bollo, aghast.

“Oh, I didn't know”, Howard said. “I suppose it's like marrying your twin brother or something”.

“Much, _much_ worse”, said Naboo firmly.

There was an awkward silence, interrupted by a loud bang, a flash of blue light, and a pillar of smoke in the lounge room. The blue giant was back, intoning, “Naboo Randolph Roberdy Poberdy the Enigma, your wedding celebrant will arrive in five minutes to take you and your intended spouse to Xooberon. If you fail to present an intended spouse at that time, you will instead be taken there for execution”.

The giant folded his arms, blinked, and vanished.

“What happened to having until 9 am tomorrow morning?”, screeched Vince.

Naboo shrugged. “Didn't read the fine print”.

“What are we going to do?”, wailed Bollo. “Naboo gonna die, and you two ballbags do nothing to help him”.

“I'll marry you, Naboo”, Howard said abruptly, his face looking stern and resolute.

“As if Naboo wants to marry a scruffy jazz loser”, said Vince scornfully, his stomach clenching – perhaps partly in guilt. Why hadn't _he_ thought of offering to help Naboo?

“Really? You'd do that for me?”, asked Naboo. “Because I actually thought you'd be the last person ...”.

“You've helped me time and again Naboo”, said Howard quietly. “Helped me overcome my anger problem, helped rid me of the Spirit of Jazz. You even saved my life”.

“Hey, it was me who saved your life, Howard!”, shouted Vince. “I was the one who went to Monkey Hell to bring you back, remember?”.

“Yes, but it was Naboo who showed you the portal”, said Howard dismissively. “Without Naboo, you would have been wandering around the afterlife like an amnesiac goat for all eternity”.

Vince looked hurt beyond all measure, and Naboo said uncomfortably, “Actually, that's not really right. You see, to bring a person back from the dead, only someone who truly - “.

“Anyway, the point is, you've done a lot for me, Naboo, and I'm grateful for it”, said Howard. “And now it's time for me to repay you”.

Naboo looked as if he wished he had another option other than Howard, but said, “Thanks for that”, as politely as possible.

“I got a bad feeling about this”, warned Bollo doomily. Vince gave him a sympathetic look, as if Bollo had voiced his own instincts.

****************************************

There was a loud impatient banging, and they all turned to see Dennis, who had arrived on his flying carpet and was knocking on the upstairs window. Without waiting for a response, Dennis forced up the sash and clambered in through the window, leaving his flying carpet outside in mid-air, as someone might leave their car idling while they dash inside to collect something.

“Nice of you to drop by, Dennis, but I'm waiting for someone to come get me”, Naboo told him.

“Yes, I know. Your wedding celebrant. That's me”, said Dennis, bringing out all the correct forms signed in triplicate from amongst his robes as he rose heavily from the floor where most of him had ended up. “As your mentor, it is my responsibility to solemnise the union between you and your future spouse.

“Where are they, then?”, he asked, looking about the room as if Naboo might have hidden them.

“Er, here he is”, said Naboo, giving Howard a gentle shove forward. “I'm going to marry Howard”.

Dennis raked Howard up and down with a mistrustful glare.“The big scruffy one you live with?”, he said incredulously. “I thought he was with the flashy vain one you live with?

Dennis looked hard at Howard, and said accusingly, “I saw you kissing him on the roof. Passionately. What do you mean by marrying Naboo when you're in love with someone else, eh?”.

“Um, yes. I was in love with Vince. Very much so”, Howard said carefully. “But that was last year. Vince and I …. grew apart, and Naboo was there for me, in my time of need, in a way that Vince wasn't. Gradually, my heartbreak healed, and I came to love Naboo instead. Deeply”.

Vince made a disbelieving noise, and rolled his eyes.

“You've gone from one person to another very easily”, said Dennis icily. “You seem very fickle, and if I find that you've been leading Naboo on, or playing with his emotions, it will be the worse for you. I still have my sword to cut your head off, you know”.

“Do you? How nice”, said Howard nervously. “But there's no need for swords. I love this tiny drug-addicted shaman, and I intend to cherish him all my days”.

“See that you do, or my sword and your neck will become much better acquainted”, said Dennis coldly. “Naboo, get on the carpet with your ill-chosen future spouse, and I'll take you both to Xooberon for the wedding preparations”.

“Preparations? I thought we were going to be married at 9 am tomorrow morning”, Howard said in dismay.

“Xooberonian weddings aren't got through in slapdash fashion”, said Dennis. “They are long, drawn-out, and arduous, like marriage itself. Naboo, you may bring your familiar for support and comfort. Naboo's ill-chosen one, it is customary to bring an attendant with you to assist you in the wedding preparations. Do you have an attendant?”.

Howard turned to Vince. “Er, Vince? Would you do me the honour …. I mean, Vince, would you be so kind as to be my attendant? For Naboo's sake”. He looked pleadingly at Vince.

“Well, _you've_ got a nerve”, said Dennis in disbelief. “Ditching your boyfriend and then asking him to be your attendant at your wedding to someone else!”.

“Yeah, it's well out of order”, agreed Vince. “But whatever's happened between us, we're still mates, right Howard?”.

“You're my best friend. Nothing can change that”, said Howard.

“Then I'll always help you if you need me, Howard”, said Vince slowly. “ _Do_ you need me?”.

“Of course, Vince”, said Howard eagerly. “You're much better than me at all this wedding stuff. I won't have a clue what to wear or anything. And Naboo needs you as well”.

Howard held out his hand to shake, but Vince only took his hand and held it gently, curling his fingers around Howard's.

“If you two are quite finished, we've got a wedding to arrange”, Naboo said, already sitting on the carpet with Bollo and Dennis. “Hop on”.

Howard blushed, dropped his hand, and then looked askance at the carpet hovering outside the window. “I don't know how to get on”, he confessed.

“Like this”, said Vince, easily swinging himself through the window, legs kicking gracefully over the windowsill, and landing on the carpet with one elbow supporting him, like a model posing .

He gave Howard a smug look, and when Howard stood in the window looking confused, Vince sighed. He took Howard's hand again, and helped him onto the carpet, Howard's feet thrashing in midair like a cartoon character's before he managed to haul himself up. As the flying carpet kicked into gear (or whatever flying carpets have instead of gears), Howard covered his face with his hands, and gave a low groan.

“What is the matter with your ill-chosen spouse?”, Dennis asked Naboo. “Does he have motion sickness, like Tony Harrison?”.

“Don't like heights”, Howard said, feeling strangely cold yet sweaty.

“Come on Howard, you big northern idiot”, said Vince, but his voice was gentle, and he pulled Howard into his arms and held both his hands. “Feel better now?”. Howard nodded feebly, and hid his face against Vince's big fluffy striped jumper.

“They seem to hold hands a lot for two people who've broken up”, Dennis commented with disapproval, glancing behind at Howard and Vince.

“It's a human thing”, said Naboo nonchalantly. “Humans hold hands all the time, it don't mean nothing”.

Dennis didn't look convinced, but was too busy flying the carpet to argue. They were coming to that tricky bit where you have to fly the carpet at a right angle to reality in order to flip it over to the Anti-Hegelian Loop. Once you'd done that, and reached the Interreality Hyperpass, you could sit back and relax as your flying carpet became a series of points along a singular plane, existing in all and none of them simultaneously. Then it was simply a matter of hanging a left at the Crossroads of Time, circling the Ring Road of Endless Light, through the Kessel Run, straight on until morning, and there you were – practically on Xooberon, give or take a parsec.

It is a good thing that Howard was not able to read Dennis' mind, or he would have been greatly alarmed by this itinerary. Luckily, he kept his eyes closed the whole way, making it a much more pleasant journey for him.

****************************************

“Are we there yet?”, Howard asked plaintively.

“It's okay, Howard. You can open your eyes now”, Vince told him.

Howard slowly opened them, just as the carpet came to a languid stop and flattened itself to the ground. He had been expecting to see the endless sands of The Desert of Nightmares, the place where he and Vince had last spent time on Xooberon. Instead, they were in a large square in a great city, the square flanked with solid, imposing civic buildings.

“Welcome to Xooberon City”, said Dennis, “the capital of the planet Xooberon. It is now five minutes to nine in the morning, local time”.

They all stood up, stretching their limbs, and yawning, Except for Dennis, they had all fallen asleep on the carpet ride at some point, Howard twitching, mumbling, and clutching Vince's leg while he did so.

“Nearly nine. So … do Naboo and I get married now?”, Howard asked, without much enthusiasm.

He supposed one of these big severe buildings was something like a town hall, and he and Naboo could get married there. He wished he didn't look as if he'd just got out of bed – his hair felt rumpled and greasy, his eyes were crusty with sleep, and he knew he had morning breath. Vince, of course, looked perfect and smelt of fresh violets.

“No, you are _not_ here to get married”, retorted Dennis. “First you must be tested, to see if your love is true and pure. Only if your desire to marry is genuine will you be allowed to wed Naboo”.

“And if I don't pass the test?”, asked Howard nervously.

“You shall be executed”, said Dennis with satisfaction.

“So how's this test work?”, asked Vince, giving Howard a reassuring smile that he completely missed.

“We enter the Temple of Truth”, said Dennis, gesturing to a round domed stone temple in front of them, rather smaller than the surrounding buildings than otherwise. “The Oracle shall then read your mind and heart, and pronounce your fate”.

He led the way rather pompously up the steps, his cloak almost dragging on the ground in front of him, until they were at the doors of the temple itself. A tall thin man with a funny little beard on his chin dressed in grey robes came forward to greet them.

“Good morning, truth seekers”, he said. “I am Fanoo, a priest of this temple who humbly serves the Oracle. May I interest you in a free pamphlet, or perhaps a guided tour?”.

“We're not tourists”, Dennis said. “I am a marriage celebrant, and I bring to the Oracle a human and a shaman who wish to marry, to see if their love is pure and true”.

Fanoo looked at them quizzically, perhaps wondering which of the humans was going to marry the shaman. “I see. Then come with me into the Sanctuary of the Oracle, but beware! For the one who seeks truth often looks in many places, and finds it not, never thinking to look within ”.

Fanoo led them into the central room of the temple, which had no windows, and was under the dome. The light was rather dim, but they could see a figure in blue robes sitting on a low stool, and when they got closer, Howard and Vince thought it was a woman. She was even smaller than Naboo, and not greatly different from him in appearance, with smooth black hair and dark eyes that seemed to look into the Abyss with equanimity.

“Honour to you, Oracle”, said Fanoo, giving a deep bow. “In this group are a human and a shaman who wish to marry. I ask of you Oracle, read their hearts and minds, and tell us if their love for each other is pure and true”.

The Oracle's eyes flicked over everyone in the group without much sign of interest. Dennis officiously pushed Howard and Naboo to the front, as if trying to force her to focus on them.

“Lady Oracle, can you tell us whether this man and shaman, Howard and Naboo, truly love each other?”, he asked.

Howard thought that Naboo gave the Oracle a pleading look, as if asking for her help. There was a long silence, before the Oracle spoke. Her voice was low and impassive, almost bored.

“It is hard to tell with so many people before me. Their hearts and minds all clamour for attention. But I tell you truly, this man of Earth is deeply loved, and so is the shaman. I see it clearly. I hope this is sufficient”.

“O Oracle, many thanks for your words of wisdom”, said Fanoo with another bow. “You speak of their hearts, but can you tell us anything of their minds?”.

“Again, it is hard to tell with so many people, and a beast familiar as well”, shrugged the Oracle. “But I hear someone thinking, _Of course I love Howard – have done for years_ , and someone else thinking, _Long have I loved Naboo,_ _and now all I want to do is protect him_ ”.

Everybody looked rather suspiciously at each other, wondering who had been thinking those things, and two of them blushed.

“Oracle, would it make it easier if you were alone with the human and shaman?”, asked Fanoo.

The Oracle stared blankly into space for over a minute before replying, “There is no need. For I can see that the truth will be revealed within a few days. Many try to conceal the truth by hiding it in the attic, unaware that its light shines forth from every window, to be seen by all”.

“All glory the sacred Truth”, said Fanoo, bowing some more. “And all honour to the wise Oracle, the High Priestess of the Great Temple of Truth. For in Truth may we find our most secure refuge, our sweetest haven, and our fortress against the forces of ignorance”.

Fanoo gestured to them all to bow to the Oracle as well, then whispered, “It is customary to give a small donation at this point”.

***************************************

“Bloody tourist trap”, scowled Dennis, as they trooped out of the Temple of Truth, having left donations – at least, Dennis and Naboo did. Vince and Howard didn't have Xooberon money, and Bollo didn't have any money at all. “If you ask me, the whole thing is a scam”.

“So what happens now?”, asked Howard. He seemed to have escaped being executed, and the relief made him almost light-headed with cheeriness.

“You didn't exactly pass the test, but you didn't fail, either,” said Dennis reluctantly. “Preparations for the wedding will begin tomorrow. For now, perhaps you would like a tour of Xooberon City, so that you may get to know Naboo's home town?”.

“Er, sounds great”, said Howard, thinking how awful it sounded. He didn't want to tour Xooberon City – he wanted a quiet place to catch up on lost sleep, something to eat, and a nice cup of tea.

“Can I come on the tour too?”, asked Vince. “I mean, I should probably know Naboo's city too. For the wedding and that”.

Howard looked at him gratefully.

“Yes, alright”, said Dennis. “I hope you've all got good shoes on, because we're going to be doing a lot of walking”.

Vince looked down at his stiletto boots with pointed toes, and sighed. Howard chewed his moustache nervously, and gave Vince a worried smile.

The guided walking tour of Xooberon City was, like most guided walking tours, absolute hell. Dennis took them from one massive civic building to another, all of them with huge columns at the front, all designed to intimidate, and all seeming much the same as each other.

There was the Hall of Justice, where executions were decided on, the Concourse of Liberty, where executions took place, and the Citadel of Freedom, where people who thought they had escaped being executed were told that they were going to be executed after all. Dennis seemed to suggest that this was even more entertaining than a regular execution. There was the Museum of Death, which had exhibitions of previous execution methods, and The University of Xooberon, which was developing new and ever-crueller methods of performing executions.

“I hope you're all learning a lot”, Dennis said, as they walked down the steps of the Gallery of Executions, which had portraits of everyone who had ever been executed. Howard was now as white as a sheet, Naboo kept sniffing from a small vial which seemed to be relaxing him, Bollo looked bored, and Vince was limping.

“My feet hurt something rotten”, he said, wincing as he tried to take another step.

“It's alright little man – I'll carry you”, Howard said, and picked Vince up, holding him in his arms. A tired Vince put his head against Howard's chest.

“I suppose this is normal for humans too?”, Dennis said meaningfully to Naboo.

“S'okay. Vince just has sore feet”, Naboo answered. “I think I might get Bollo to carry me, actually”.

“Well, since you're behaving like foolish babies who didn't wear sensible footwear, we'll skip the Wrongful Executions Memorial, where we remember all those who were executed by mistake, or through a miscarriage of justice”, said Dennis.

There was a general noise of relief, and then Dennis told everyone to get back on the flying carpet, he would show them Xooberon City from the air. There was a general noise of dejection, tempered by a general noise of reluctant acceptance, because this was actually better than going on a walking tour. At least they could rest their feet on the flying carpet, and even Dennis pointing out such important sites as The Tower of Doom and The Endless Screaming Steps seemed easier to ignore. Howard found the slow, low-level flying Dennis was doing easier to handle, and he was able to look at where they were flying, as long as Vince held his hand tight.

They were now flying through what looked like a very exclusive suburb filled with mansions, when Dennis pointed out an especially grand and beautiful one.

“What that – the king's palace or something?”, asked Howard, who hadn't been listening to Dennis' commentary.

“No, you fool of Earth! That is Naboo's home on Xooberon”, Dennis snapped. “Or should I say, the home you and Naboo will share on your trips to Xooberon together”.

“Wow, Naboo! That's … very impressive”, said Howard, trying to take in the mansion's numerous balconies, its gem encrusted roof, lush gardens, hedge mazes, classical statuary, ponds, swimming pools, and fountains. “How did you end up with a place like that?”.

“All shamans are fabulously wealthy, what with the dealing in … er, magic substances”, said Naboo. “My house is nothing special for a shaman. You should see where Tony Harrison and his wife live”.

“Then why do you all live in grotty little flats on Earth?”, Vince wondered.

“The exchange rate is terrible”, Naboo deadpanned. “Once we convert our Xooberon dollars into euros, we end up having to deal in … er, magic substances, just to get by. And London real estate is a nightmare”.

“Looks like you're going to be living in luxury once you're married to Naboo”, said Vince sourly.

“Oh, I don't expect we'll be going to Xooberon that often”, said Howard, still gazing at Naboo's mansion.

“Of course, there's the mandatory three months you have to spend on Xooberon after the wedding”, Dennis chipped in. “You must become familiar with your spouse's planet, after all”.

“Right oh”, said Howard vaguely. “Look Naboo – would you have any space for a recording studio at the house? It wouldn't have to be a big one … although room for an orchestra would be nice”.

****************************************

Dennis left Naboo and Bollo at the mansion, then flew off with Howard and Vince.

“Um, shouldn't I be with Naboo?”, Howard asked. “I mean, shouldn't we all be with Naboo? He's got tons of room”.

“It is not permitted for you to share a home with your future spouse until the day your marriage is solemnised”, said Dennis sternly. “I have arranged some suitable accommodation for you and your attendant”.

He gave a nasty smirk, and Howard felt sure that Dennis had booked them into the grimiest, sleaziest hotel in Xooberon City, probably in a dangerous little alleyway where they would be threatened by pickpockets and muggers the second they ventured outside.

So it was a pleasant surprise when the flying carpet fluttered to the ground in front of what appeared to be a group of quite charming little apartments piled on top of each other in a haphazard fashion, as if designed by Dr. Seuss, each one painted in a bright colour, and with a front door in a contrasting shade. There was a small garden out the front filled with lily-like flowers of a violet hue and pale yellow blooms that looked rather like daisies.

“Here's where you'll be staying on Xooberon”, Dennis said, still with the nasty smirk. “The manager will … take care of you, and we'll meet up tomorrow for the first part of the wedding … festivities”.

An exhausted Howard and Vince shuffled their way off the carpet, and watched as it disappeared out of view.

“Why does everything he say sound like a threat?”, Vince wondered.

“I don't think he likes me very much”, Howard answered.

“He _hates_ you”, Vince said with relish. “He hates you even more than he hated me, and that's really saying something, because he wanted to murder me”.

They stood for a moment, wondering where they were meant to go, when a pretty woman with wavy dark hair and a bright smile bustled out of what they presumed was her office.

“Hello, you must be the men from Earth Dennis told me about”, she said cheerfully. “I'm Maroo. I'm guessing you've come to Xooberon to be married?”.

“We're not a couple”, Vince said flatly.

“Really? I'm usually good at picking stuff like that”, Maroo said doubtfully.

“We're good friends”, Howard said, looking sideways at Vince to see if he'd disagree.

“Oh, well, maybe that's what I could see. That close connection between you”, Maroo said. “Which one of you is getting married?”.

“I am”, said Howard. “I'm marrying a shaman from Xooberon”.

“Wow, a shaman? You must be a fabulous catch to have attracted a shaman”, said Maroo, looking very impressed. “Are you a king or a duke on your planet?”.

“Yeah, he's the duke of dork”, snickered Vince.

“Well, I like to think of myself as the king of swing, little lady”, said Howard with a smile. “But I'm really a bit of a jazz maverick, a sort of badass slap-bass funk-fusion daddy-oh, Marie”.

“It's Maroo”, she repeated, slightly louder, as if Howard might be deaf.

“Maroo – a lovely name for a lovely lady”, said Howard, giving her what he considered his special smile for lovely ladies, and what Vince called his creepy rapist smirk. “I'm Howard Moon”.

“Very pleased to meet you, Howard”, said Maroo warmly. “I'm here to take care of your needs while you're on Xooberon”.

“And I'm Vince Noir, rock and roll star”, Vince said, giving Maroo one of his most charming grins, one part cheeky Cockney scamp to nine parts Camden leisure pirate. “I'm Howard's wedding attendant”.

Maroo just nodded at him, then said, “Well, I suppose you'd like to see your apartment?”.

She led the way up one side of a double staircase with shallow stone steps and a curly iron balustrade until they reached a canary yellow apartment with a vivid blue door.

“It's nothing special”, Maroo said apologetically as she turned the key. “I feel almost embarrassed to show it to someone who's marrying a shaman!”.

Howard and Vince were apprehensive about what was inside, but when they poked their heads in, both gave a little sigh of relief. The compact apartment was neat and spotlessly clean, with colourful rugs on the floors, and comfortable low seating.

“It's lovely”, Howard said.

“Well nice”, agreed Vince. “Love all the brass decorations”.

“It's very small”, Maroo fretted, “but as there's only two of you …. “

“Vince and I are used to close quarters”, Howard said breezily. “We shared a tent when we went trekking through the frozen tundra”.

“You must be very brave”, breathed Maroo, looking up at Howard.

“Yeah, why don't you tell Maroo how you bravely made me sleep in the snow?”, sniped Vince.

“You were on night watch”, Howard reminded him. “And you were a little bit lazy, falling asleep instead and then messing about with a polar bear”.

“Why don't you tell Maroo how you told me you loved me?”, taunted Vince.

“Vince, we promised never to discuss that in front of anyone else!”, yelped Howard.

He looked worriedly at Maroo, but she'd moved on to show them the miniature kitchen, and the tiny bathroom. They raced after her to reassure her both were great, and they hardly cooked or washed anyway.

“And this is the first bedroom”, said Maroo, pushing open a door.

“Wait – there's _two_ bedrooms?”, said Howard.

“Yes. It's small, but of course you don't have to share a bedroom!”, laughed Maroo.

“But we're … um”, said Vince, not sure how to go on.

“We wouldn't mind sharing”, said Howard weakly.

“This will be your bedroom, Howard”, said Maroo, not listening to them. “It's a decent size, there is a balcony with a nice view of the mountains over the city skyline, and the bed is very comfortable”.

“Great”, said Howard, looking through the open door.

“Try it out”, Maroo invited, sitting on the four poster bed and patting it to encourage Howard over.

“Okay”, he said, sitting on the very edge of the bed. “Mm. That's quite comfortable”.

“It's a good size too”, Maroo went on. “Even someone as big as you can still stretch out”.

Maroo lay on her back to demonstrate to Howard how much room there was. “You try too”.

Howard gingerly lay down next to Maroo. “Yes, this is of sufficient size”, he said cautiously.

“Comfortable, isn't it?”, said Maroo. “You know, I have the same bed in my own apartment, and I just luxuriate in it. You feel as if you're floating on a cloud”. She writhed with pleasure as if to show what sleeping on it was like.

“Um, yes. It's very comfortable”, said Howard repressively.

“Do you normally sleep on the left hand side of the bed?”, Maroo asked.

“What? Yes, I do”, said Howard.

“That's funny, I always sleep on the right hand side. It's almost as if we will be sharing the same bed, but in different apartments!”, laughed Maroo, looking at him dewily.

“Haha, very amusing”, said Howard, looking slightly hunted.

“So where's my room, then?”, demanded Vince, slouching into the room and scowling at seeing Howard lying down next to Maroo.

“Oh, yes. Yours is just through here”, said Maroo, bouncing off the bed and smoothing down her mauve uniform. “The rooms adjoin, you see? It's a little bit smaller”.

Vince looked through the doorway. His room appeared to be a large cupboard with no window where someone had somehow managed to squeeze a single bed, taking up nearly every inch of the space.

“Not quite as comfortable, is it?”, he said.

“Well no, but then you're more or less Howard's servant, aren't you?”, said Maroo. “Being a wedding attendant”.

“I'm a what?”, Vince asked in shock. “I thought I was like a bridesmaid, or a best man!”.

“I don't know what those things are, but a wedding attendant acts as the personal assistant to the one about to be married”, explained Maroo. “You are here to serve Howard, and do his bidding in all things. We have that in common, you see”.

“Everything all right in here?”, asked Howard, looking over their shoulders. “What's your room like, Vince? Oh … um. Er”.

“I'm in the bloody servant's quarters!”, Vince raged, looking furiously at Howard.

****************************************

“You're not my servant, Vince”, Howard said, putting out the food Maroo had brought them on beautifully-patterned dishes from the kitchen. It was some sort of spicy stew, served with a bright yellow grain with a nutty taste. Howard had told Vince to think of it as curry and rice.

“That woman said I were”, Vince said, scooping up his stew.

“Well, think what a bridesmaid does, Vince”, said Howard. “She runs around, shopping, making appointments and phone calls, organising parties and dinners. Making up seating plans and sewing little bags of sugared almonds. It's a hard job, and some brides can be very demanding”.

“Yeah, remember that Gothic bird, Ebola? I heard she was a right bridezilla”, Vince said.

“And a bridesmaid doesn't get paid, she does it all as an act of friendship. Now imagine if an alien culture saw that – they might think that the bridesmaid was the bride's slave”, Howard said, taking another mouthful of food before continuing. “Well, on Xooberon that's how they see the wedding attendant. It's the same thing, from different cultural viewpoints. But we'll know that you're my wedding attendant from friendship, and helping me and Naboo because you care”.

“That's okay, then, Howard”, said Vince. “Are there any poppadoms to have with this?”.

There weren't, but there was a flatbread that had some sort of creamy filling, not completely unlike yoghurt, and that proved to be useful in mopping up the remnants of their stew. There was a sweet fruity-tasting drink as well, which Vince said was his favourite part of the meal. Vince hadn't eaten much, but that was normal for him. Howard had been starving after going all day without food, and there wasn't anything left over.

After dinner, Howard said he would clean up and do the dishes, while Vince went through the assortment of clothes that Maroo had brought them. She had guessed their sizes pretty well, and seemed to have decided that Vince liked black, bright colours, and a mixture of tight and loose clothing. She'd offered Howard a selection of baggy clothing in brownish neutral tones. There were no shoes, so they were stuck with their boots, but Maroo had thoughtfully given them soft slippers to wear around the apartment.

Howard put away their clothes in the big wardrobe in his room, and then went to check on Vince.

“You okay, little man?”, he asked, seeing Vince lying down on a low settee, looking pale.

“I'm a bit tired, and my feet are so sore”, he said, in a frail voice Howard had almost never heard him use. Vince was very tough, and he must be in real pain to admit his feet hurt.

“I'll go see if Maroo has anything that can help”, Howard said, and went outside to where he thought Maroo's office was. He was embarrassed to ask her for something personal, but to his relief, when he entered the office, it turned out to be at least half a little shop.

“Greetings, Howard”, said Maroo with a warm smile.

“Er, hello there”, Howard said awkwardly. “Um, do you have anything for sore feet?”.

“I would be happy to give you a foot massage if you need one, Howard”, said Maroo eagerly.

“I was thinking of foot soak”, Howard said.

“These work wonders”, Maroo said, putting a bottle of purple crystals on the counter. “And I'll throw in some massage lotion, just in case you change your mind”. She gave Howard an encouraging little smile.

“I'm not quite sure how to pay for it”, Howard admitted. “We don't have any Xooberon money”.

He was afraid that Maroo might have creative methods for him to pay her, but to his relief, she replied, “I'll add it to your bill, and Dennis will pay for everything at the end. After all, you're marrying a shaman! There's no fear that you can't afford anything. You could probably buy _me_!”.

Howard laughed nervously, and sidled out of the little shop with his purchases, waving goodbye as he left.

“Here you go, Vince”, he said as he returned to the apartment. “I'll pop these into a bowl of warm water, and you should feel better soon”.

He found a large brass bowl in the kitchen, filled it with warm water, and carried it back to the living area. Vince said, “Sorry, Howard. I don't think I can take my boots off. It hurts when I try”.

Howard clucked his tongue, and unzipped Vince's boots, gently pulling them from Vince's feet while Vince grimaced.

“Don't look at my feet”, Vince begged. “They're all mangled and broken from wearing high heels all the time”.

“They look perfectly fine”, smiled Howard. He gently held Vince's feet and lowered them into the warm water, before adding the crystals, which fizzed and bubbled before turning the water deep purple.

“What's that stuff?”, Vince asked.

Howard looked at the label on the bottle. “ _Purple Desert Lake Salt. Relief for when you're tired and aching_ ”, he read. “It's probably like Epsom salts”.

Vince gave a little sigh, and smiled in a way that suggested the foot soak was working. Howard was glad to see him relax, and sat at the other end of the settee, sinking back into the soft cushions, and putting his feet up. They didn't talk at first. Howard wanted Vince to concentrate on feeling better, and he was so tired after their day of sightseeing that he was happy to just zone out.

Meanwhile, Vince was feeling surprisingly … buzzy. Energised. It felt as if his mind and body were being woken up, not just his tired feet. He suddenly gave a giggle.

“What's so funny?”, asked Howard drowsily.

“The foot soak tingles”, Vince said, not wanting to be too honest. Howard would probably say it was Xooberon drugs, and insist he get out of the water.

“You sound a lot better”, Howard said. “Maybe you've been soaking long enough”.

Vince's instinct was to say he wanted to stay in the water, but another part of him worried what might happen if he kept getting tingles all over his body, so he gave a sad little sigh, and took his feet out of the bowl.

“I'll get a towel for you”, said Howard, fetching a small one from the bathroom, and pulling Vince's feet into his own lap so he could dry them. Vince giggled again, and wriggled his toes against Howard's inner thighs, giving him a naughty grin.

“Hey, careful there”, Howard said. “We don't want to cause an accident”.

“My feet are still a bit sore”, pouted Vince.

“I've got some massage oil”, said Howard, and he put some of the oil on his hands and began gently rubbing it into Vince's feet.

Vince gave a little gasp, and then a low moan.

“You okay there, little man?”, asked Howard in concern, worrying he'd hurt Vince.

“Yes, Howard”, said Vince, a bit breathlessly. “It felt … nice”.

“That's good”, said Howard. “A bit of a massage and a good night's sleep, and your feet will be right as rain”.

Vince could hardly believe how good having his feet rubbed was. Either Xooberon massage oil was the best in the universe, or Howard was an exceptional masseur. Maybe both. Vince just wanted to lie back and float on a sea of bliss.

“Oh … wow. That feels so good”, moaned Vince, as Howard's fingers probed deeper into the arch of his foot. “You have genius hands”.

“You can safely put yourself in the hands of a musician, Vince”, Howard mused. “Our hands are skilful, yet sensitive”.

Vince's imagination kept trying to show him what else Howard's skilful, sensitive hands might be able to manage. He pushed the images away. Even the little calluses on Howard's fingers from playing guitar felt magic. And Howard's hands themselves were such huge northern mitts – there was something about being cradled in the safety of two enormous hands that made Vince want to melt into a puddle.

“Don't stop”, Vince begged, as Howard seemed to be slowing down.

“What happened to not even _looking_ at your feet?”, said Howard with a chuckle.

“I was an idiot”, moaned Vince. “I didn't know it was so nice to have your feet massaged. I thought it would hurt my damaged feet”.

“Your poor feet probably need a bit of TLC”, said Howard. “The way you shove them into tight boots all day”.

Vince was even enjoying being lectured by Howard. At least it showed he cared … Oh wow, Howard was massaging each toe, right down to the little pinkies, and in between them …. it was waking up his entire body, feeling as if his throat and back and chest were opening up, his arms and legs, his thighs, oh his thighs were awake and tingling, and his groin was throbbingly awake. Vince curled his toes in Howard's lap, and he was almost sure that Howard was awake too. Wide awake. Vince rubbed his feet alongside Howard's awakeness, and gave him a sleepy grin.

Howard rapidly rubbed oil from Vince's feet using the towel, and pulled the soft slippers on for him. He cleared his throat several times.

“Well, it's been quite a day”, Howard said, “and I'd better have a shower before we turn in”.

He almost ran to the bathroom, and, like Captain Oates, was gone for some time. Vince found that massage oil worked extremely well on other parts of the body, and was almost no time at all, using the little towel to clean himself up.

*******************************************

“Are you really okay in the other bedroom, Vince?”, called Howard.

They had both had their showers, and gone to their separate rooms, stripping down to their pants and vests for bed.

“Yeah, I'm okay, Howard”, Vince called back.

“At least leave the door open between us – you can't spend all night locked in a linen closet”, Howard said.

Vince opened the door, which he could do without getting out of bed, and called out, “Good night, Howard”.

“Night”, Howard called back.

After a while, Vince said, “It's weird not sleeping in the same room”.

“It's almost the same room with the door open”, Howard said. “We can still talk, and hear each other”.

“Yeah, almost the same”, echoed Vince, feeling the walls of his cupboard-room close in on him. He turned his face towards Howard, and told himself the bed was plenty big enough for one skinny person, and not even uncomfortable. Not really.

Howard turned his face towards Vince, sunk into the deep pillowy cloud of comfort that was the bed, and immediately fell asleep. He began to snore softly.

**************************************

Howard suddenly woke up, sure that someone was in the room with him. “Vince?”, he said sleepily.

“Howard, can I come in with you?”, asked Vince. “I feel like Harry Potter before he went to Hogwarts, and I can't sleep without a window. My bed's always near the window”.

“Okay, little man”, said Howard. “I've been feeling a bit guilty about getting this big bed all to myself, anyway”. He felt Vince slide in beside him.

“Wow, this bed is so comfy!”, Vince exclaimed. “It's like lying on a big fluffy cloud”.

“Yes, that's what Maroo said”, Howard replied.

“That bird is flirting with you something fierce”, Vince said in disgust.

“She's just doing her job”, Howard said, although he sounded embarrassed.

Vince snorted. “You're unbelievable, Howard. You go after birds that ain't interested at _all_ , and now here's one throwing herself at you, and suddenly you're looking for the exit sign to get away from her”.

“She's not interested in me”, Howard explained patiently. “She's being paid to please me, and she's impressed that I'm marrying a shaman. That makes me … I dunno, whatever marries rock stars”.

“Models”, said Vince firmly.

“Point is, she's not interested in me at all as a person”, Howard said.

“Don't be so sure”, Vince said darkly. “Nobody's that good at acting”.

“Anyway, I'm meant to be getting married”, Howard said. “Thanks for helping me, Vince – I couldn't have done this without you, and then … well, you know what would have happened to Naboo”.

“Yeah, he would've ended up getting his portrait done”, said Vince seriously.

“Okay, let's go to sleep”, Howard said, rolling over, and immediately starting to snore again.

Unbelievable, Vince thought. He was going to be kept awake for …

They were both asleep. It was a very, very comfortable bed.

****************************************

“It's only me!”, Maroo called out as she came into the apartment using her key. “I thought I'd bring you in some ...”. She gave a little scream as she reached the open door of their bedroom, and quickly put the tray down on the table before she dropped it.

“Oh, er … good morning, Maroo”, said a slightly dishevelled-looking Howard, sitting up in bed.

Some time in the night, he and Vince seemed to have become entangled, and Vince was curled into his side with his arm over Howard's chest. Vince batted his eyelashes at Maroo, and looked smug.

“Why are you in bed together?”, Maroo demanded. “Is there something wrong with the single bed?”.

“No, no, no”, Howard said, in his most soothing voice. “Vince wasn't feeling very well last night, and I thought it would be better if he had the more comfortable bed”.

“Then why didn't you take the other one?”, Maroo asked.

“Well … to be perfectly honest, Vince and I are just used to sharing a bedroom. We've slept in the same room for … oh, must be at least five years”.

“Closer to ten, I make it”, said Vince.

“It's never ten”, Howard said. “Look, when did we move into Naboo's flat?”.

“It was after the zoo”, Vince said hesitantly.

“Yes, but how many years ago was it?”.

“Eight?”, Vince guessed.

“Eight? I don't think it's more than six, seven and a half at most”, Howard countered. “Your grasp of the passage time is tenuous at best. That's why you're always late”.

“Look at you two – bickering away like … like two friends who share a bedroom”, said Maroo.

“Anyway, we're used to sharing a room, and Vince couldn't get to sleep without me”, said Howard.

“But you're getting married”, Maroo pointed out. “You can't keep sleeping in the same room when you're married to someone else, can you? So shouldn't you start getting used to it?”.

Howard and Vince stared at each other. It was so obvious now she pointed it out, but they'd never considered it. Howard would have to spend three months on Xooberon with Naboo learning about Xooberon culture, and after that, he and Naboo would have to share a room forever. People would probably check up on them to make sure their marriage was valid, and that officious Dennis would no doubt be making surprise bedroom spot-checks to ensure he and Naboo were sleeping in the same bed. Howard looked horrified, and Vince distraught.

“Anyway, I've brought you breakfast”, said Maroo awkwardly. “I'll just leave it on the table”.

“Thanks so much, Maroo. It smells delicious”, Howard said, and got out of bed. Vince followed.

“You were in bed together almost naked?”, Maroo asked with raised eyebrows.

“No pyjamas”, grinned Vince.

“I left out a nightshirt for each of you”, said Maroo, pointing to two robes on the end of the bed.

“Oh, er, sorry. We didn't recognise them as night attire”, said Howard. “It's all been a rather embarrassing misunderstanding”.

Maroo looked doubtful about whether she'd misunderstood anything.

“Please don't tell Dennis”, Howard begged.

Maroo's sea-green eyes looked over Howard's manly physique, then she gave him a reassuring little smile. “Your secret's safe with me”, she promised.

******************************************

Now decently clad in their long nightshirts, Howard and Vince were eating the breakfast Maroo had brought. It turned out to be little pastries shaped like crescent moons, and a selection of spreads ranging from sweet to spicy. Vince was sticking to one he had found that was not completely unlike Nutella, while Howard had tried some jams that tasted as if they might have been made with flowers rather than fruit.

Howard longed for a proper cup of tea, but instead there was an infusion of dried orange leaves in boiling water. Apart from being a hot drink, and mildly stimulating, it had almost nothing in common with actual tea. Howard made an unhappy noise, but kept drinking it anyway, because part of his routine was having a cup of tea in the morning, and this was the closest thing available.

There was a loud knock at the door, and before either of them could say anything, Dennis had let himself in, and strode into the kitchen.

“What, you two still in your nightshirts?”, he said disapprovingly.

“Yes, that's right, we slept in nightshirts”, Howard babbled. “All night. In separate beds. And different rooms”.

Vince licked dark sweet paste off his pastry, and showed Dennis his brown tongue.

“You two really are morons”, Dennis said in disgust. “Tonight is the Dedication Ceremony, which is being held in the Assembly Room of Felicity. Howard, what colours do you want for the decorations?”.

“Oh … I don't know. Whatever Naboo wants”, said Howard, rather alarmed at being asked for his opinion.

“Naboo said he doesn't care”, said Dennis discontentedly. “You're both absolutely hopeless”.

“What do you think, Vince?”, asked Howard. “You're better with this stuff than me”.

“Naboo likes peacock colours”, Vince said thoughtfully, as he licked his pastry some more. “What about turquoise and emerald?”.

“Mm, with gold and black touches?”, Dennis suggested.

“Yeah, and no flowers. Save them for the big day”, Vince advised.

He and Dennis continued their intense discussion about decorations, music, and catering while Howard got dressed, and did the dishes.

“So how many people tonight?”, Howard asked Dennis, as he fastidiously wiped down all the kitchen surfaces.

“Oh, it's just family for the Dedication Ceremony”, Dennis answered. “Small and intimate, plus it's a great chance for your families to meet each other. How many of your family would you like transported to Xooberoon for this evening?”.

Howard's face turned white with horror. “Oh … my family won't be able to come”, he said. “There's a terrible virus going around at the moment, and they're all ill. Very ill. There's a chance Uncle Terry won't pull through”.

“I haven't heard about any virus”, frowned Dennis.

“It's only in Yorkshire”, Howard said nervously. “They're calling it the Yorkshire Flu. They've … actually closed the border to Yorkshire, so nobody can get in or out”.

“Well, that's some unbelievably bad luck”, said Dennis. “However, it means you can concentrate on getting to know your future in-laws. The Poberdy clan is one of the oldest and most influential families on Xooberon, so it's very important that you impress them as a suitable son-in-law. It's usual to present them with a gift concomitant with their status”.

“Like what?”, asked Howard faintly.

“Precious metals or gemstones, things like that”, said Dennis carelessly. “I'll leave you some Xooberon money so you can buy something today. And of course, buy some suitable outfits for tonight. You don't want the Poberdys to think their son is marrying some sort of hobo, hm?”.

“Thank you Dennis, I'll do my best”, muttered Howard, wondering what would be the next surprise Dennis had for him.

******************************************

“Ah, Maroo. Can you recommend a jewellery store?”, Howard asked, leaning on the counter of the apartment manager's little shop.

“Yes, of course”, said Maroo. “Galaxy Gems is in the nearest shopping district, and it sells lovely stuff. Very pricey, though. Who's the jewellery for?”.

“My future parents-in-law”, said Howard, looking rather stressed. “Dennis told me that the Poberdys will be expecting a very valuable gift from me”.

“The Poberdys?”, Maroo said in shock, rather as someone might say, “The Windsors?”, or “The Rockefellers?”. “You're marrying one of the Poberdys?”.

“Um, yes. My fiance is Naboo Poberdy”, said Howard.

Maroo looked concerned. “Howard, Dennis has led you astray. It would be the most terrible insult for you to offer the Poberdys an expensive gift. It would suggest they didn't have enough money to buy it for themselves”.

“What?”, said Howard, looking stressed. “But then … what do I get them?”.

Maroo considered for a moment. “Something fun and original?”, she suggested. “An unusual plant, for example. Or a rare spice. Why don't you go looking in the markets? They sell all sorts of strange things they ship in from other planets”.

“Thanks for the tip”, Howard said, rather grimly, and went and told Vince what Maroo had told him.

“Dennis really has it in for you, doesn't he?”, Vince commented. “Anyway, let's go to the markets together. You look for a present, I'll look for incredible outfits for us”.

They spent all morning at the markets. Howard walked around for ages before he saw a little shop selling house plants. Remembering Maroo's suggestion, he asked if they had anything unusual to sell. After some hesitation, he ended up buying a plant from the planet Myaldere'an which had purple leaves and small bell-like white flowers. When the flowers opened each day, they made a low chiming noise. It wasn't that expensive, but the shopkeeper assured him there were very few examples of the plant on Xooberon yet.

Howard paid for the plant, and told the shopkeeper to hold it for him while he went and checked on Vince. Vince was in an alleyway devoted entirely to clothing stores, and was busy asking everyone what were the latest fashions in Xooberon City. He even picked up a copy of _XC Fashion Weekly_ to look for ideas.

Howard patiently followed Vince around, carrying his bags and packages, paying all the bills, and waiting interminably while Vince debated the benefits of a thin white stripe over a thin cream stripe. He knew Vince was doing it all to help him, and even on another planet, Vince somehow knew what was going to work, and what wasn't. Much as he might tease Vince, he knew Vince was a fashion genius, and not to question his methods.

At last, Vince said he had finished, so Howard picked up his plant, which Vince immediately declared “cute”. Then Howard took Vince to lunch at one of the restaurants in the marketplace. They chose what they assumed were meatballs in a fruity, spicy sauce with thin noodles, and then a delicious frozen dessert you could buy in little cups, rather like ice cream. Howard noticed that Vince would eat anything on Xooberon, as long as Howard could convince him it was pretty much the same as the food they ate at home.

*****************************************

“So how do you think the Dedication Ceremony is going so far?”, Vince asked, hovering over the buffet meal without actually choosing anything to eat.

“Okay, I think”, Howard replied, beginning to pick out a little plate of food for Vince. “Naboo's family are all really nice. The only problem is, there's hundreds of them, and I can't tell them apart”.

“That sounds a bit racist”, objected Vince. “I mean, marrying into another culture, and then saying their family's huge and all look the same”.

“Well, they do!”, Howard said. “They're all short and thin with the same eyes and hair. The women are almost the same as the men, but even shorter, with hair slightly longer. And his parents have been married for a thousand years, so he's got sixteen brothers and twelve sisters, and most of them are married with kids, and a lot of the kids are married with kids, and so on”.

“Are they all here?”, asked Vince, looking around as if trying to count.

“All except his youngest sister. She's got some work thing on”, Howard replied.

“Still. Dennis' face when he saw what you'd given the Poberdys”, chuckled Vince, nibbling on a little pie.

That memory even made Howard smile, as he began sipping a glass of wine.

He'd been so nervous about meeting Naboo's parents, but they were rather sweet in a detached sort of way, very much like Naboo. It had been embarrassing seeing Naboo again – Howard had greeted him with a strangled-sounding, “Oh, hello … er, darling”, and put his arm around him in such a way it looked like a choke hold. “Yeah, Howard”, Naboo had replied vaguely. The Poberdys didn't seem to think this was in any way unusual.

“So, why are you marrying my son?”, asked Mr Poberdy genially.

“Um. I care about Naboo very much”, Howard said after a few moment's thought.

“You have a good heart”, said Mrs Poberdy. “I can see that whatever your motives are, they are entirely sincere”.

Howard was a bit annoyed that everyone on Xooberon seemed to be at least low-level psychic. It felt very difficult to pull off a fake marriage and not get executed under these conditions.

It was then Howard had presented the Poberdys with their gift, Dennis' jaw dropping when he saw that Howard had ignored his advice.

“Oh, how charming”, Mrs Poberdy cooed.

“I've heard about these plants”, Mr Poberdy said. “Can someone dim the lights?”.

When the room had been darkened, everyone could see that the white bell-like flowers actually glowed in the dark. There was a bit of impressed muttering.

Mr Poberdy gently picked one of the flowers, which immediately made a tinkling noise, and then emitted the most delicious fragrance – sweet, ambrosial, and awakening a happy memory in everyone's mind. The Poberdys declared themselves absolutely delighted with Howard's thoughtful gift. Dennis looked furious.

The Dedication Ceremony itself only took a few minutes. Dennis had stood at the front of the Assembly Room, looking somewhat put out, and asked Naboo and Howard if they intended to marry each other.

“With all earnestness and in good faith, declaring yourselves to be companions and lovers for all time, knowing full well the penalties that will be handed down should you be in any way dishonest?”, said Dennis solemnly, giving Howard an especially beady look on the last word.

“Yeah, sure”, said Naboo easily. His eyes had a glassy vacant look that made Howard think he might have taken some very strong drugs to get through this.

“Um, yes. That is to say … I agree. I mean, yes definitely”, said Howard, feeling unaccountably sweaty. He made a stab at kissing Naboo on his forehead, but ended up getting his turban instead.

Dennis gave Howard a suspicious glance, and then went on to say that the wedding ceremony would take place in two days, with all the usual celebrations attendant upon it. Then everyone broke into little groups to chat, and the food and drink was served. Howard went to make sure Vince ate properly, because they'd had nothing since lunch, and he'd worked very hard all afternoon on their outfits.

“The decorations look great”, Howard said, taking another glass of strong Xooberon wine.

“That's all Dennis”, said Vince modestly.

“Still, you gave him plenty of suggestions. And our outfits look great. I mean, yours does. You look incredible”. Howard began to wonder if he'd had too much wine, so had another one with the vague idea of diluting the first two wines.

“Wow, thanks Howard”, said Vince. He had on black tights with a loose bright blue tunic, and black shoes with curly toes.

“Looks a bit like when we tried to bring back the Renaissance style”, smiled Howard. “I always thought we were ahead of our time doing that”.

“People weren't quite ready for it”, Vince said. “I like what you're wearing. I had to alter it a fair bit, but it's ended up looking good”.

Howard looked down at his own clothing. He had a long hooded robe in quite an aggressive nutmeg tempered with thin cream stripes, and a deep V-neck so you could see his collarbone, and some of his chest. On his feet were open-toed shoes.

“You should try some of these red fruits”, Howard said, leaning over to pick one from a bowl, and feeding it to Vince. “They're delicious”.

“Mm, yummy”, Vince said, sucking the juice from Howard's fingers.

It was at this inopportune that Dennis chose to wander over, barking, “Earth Fool! Stop feeding him heflerump testicles, it's time for the dancing!”.

Vince made a choking noise and looked sick, and Howard turned pale and quickly drank two more wines, before making Vince drink one to get the taste of delicious yummy testicle out of his mouth.

Howard and Vince trailed after Dennis to the dance floor, where everyone had congregated. Howard had his arm around Vince, and kept patting his back, due to his distress over the testicle incident. Dennis was explaining the elements of The Dance of Love, which was traditional at weddings and dedication ceremonies, mostly for the benefit of Howard and Vince.

It was a long and quite complex dance. The pair getting married began as the lead couple, and did several rather difficult steps. Then, as other couples joined them on the dance floor, they would twist away from each other, and begin interacting with the other dancers. Sometimes they might just touch hands and circle each other, other times they might dance quite closely together. However, no matter how they twisted and turned with others around the dance floor, they would always return to their original partner at the end. It was meant to symbolise the way both halves of a married couple will each go out into the world and form other relationships with neighbours, friends, and colleagues (some superficial, others deep and abiding), but would always return to each other.

Howard wasn't sure how any of this worked, and wished he hadn't drank so much wine. He followed Naboo's lead for the first part of the dance, feeling ridiculously tall compared to the diminutive shaman, and then Mrs Poberdy smiled as she came forward and linked arms with him to swing him off to another partner, which turned out to be one of Naboo's brothers, or nephews. He touched fingertips with him, and then swirled away to dance with someone else.

The trouble was he found it quite impossible to find Naboo at the end of each movement, and didn't know what he was doing wrong. No matter how many people he danced with, and which direction he danced in, he always ended up with Vince at the end.

After the fourth time this happened, Dennis came over to remonstrate with him.

“Look, can you stop dancing with Vince?”, the shaman demanded angrily. “At the end of every movement, Naboo is left quite alone, and I have to step in as his partner! And every single time, I look over, and there you are with your finger-sucking friend. It's bad enough you enter the dance area with your arm around Vince, but now you can't stop dancing with him. Go over and dance with Naboo, or you'll create a scandal the Poberdys won't appreciate”.

He gave Howard a hard shove in the middle of his back, and Howard lurched awkwardly over to Naboo's side.

“I'm sorry, Naboo”, he said helplessly, as he took Naboo's hand for the next movement. “I really don't know what I'm doing, and I keep missing you at the end”.

“It's alright, Howard”, Naboo said calmly. “It's not your fault. The dance enchants everyone to return to their true love when the pattern is complete. I'm not yours, so you'll never be able to find me. It's normal when doing this dance for some people to be left alone at the end, it's just that we're getting married, so everyone notices us”.

“Naboo, I'm not sure we're going to get away with this”, Howard said worriedly.

“Relax, Howard”, said Naboo. “Only my family has seen this dance, and they're not going to dob me in, are they?”.

“Who decided to have The Dance of Love?”, Howard wondered, as he put his arms around Naboo for the next part of the dance.

“Dennis”, replied Naboo. “He seems to be making all the decisions”.

Howard twirled away from Naboo to dance with one of his sisters, hoping to find Naboo again, while knowing full well he never could.

*****************************************

“Thank Brian Christ that's over”, said Howard, as they both got ready for bed that night.

“Howard, I still feel a bit sick from that testicle”, Vince said. “Is it okay if I sleep with you?”.

“''Course you can, Vince”, Howard said, getting into bed and opening the covers so Vince could crawl in beside him.

“Thanks, Howard”, Vince said, lying down next to Howard.

“Sorry I made you sick”, Howard said. “I genuinely thought it was fruit. I ate three of them”.

Vince made a low moaning noise at the thought.

“You know, it was only the _idea_ of it that made you ill, Vince”, Howard said. “Before you knew what it was, you said it was yummy”.

“Please stop talking about it”, Vince begged.

“Sorry. Again”, Howard said, staring into the darkness.

“Howard?”, asked Vince. “Howard? Howard? Howard? Howard!”.

“Mm. What?”, asked Howard.

“I don't like wearing a nightshirt. It wraps itself around and around my legs until I feel like a mummy”, Vince complained.

“It's probably too big for you. Just take it off”, Howard said.

Howard could see Vince tear the nightshirt over his head and throw it on the floor. Howard got out of bed and patiently folded the nightshirt, putting it on the end of the bed before getting back into bed. He got into a comfortable position, and let out a small sigh.

“Howard?”, asked Vince. “Howard? Howard? Howard? Howard!”.

“What is it now?”, asked Howard.

“I'm a bit cold without a nightshirt”, said Vince.

“Do you want me to close the window?”.

“No, the breeze coming in from the mountains smells nice”, Vince said.

“Cuddle up to me and get warm”, Howard said.

Immediately he could feel Vince in his arms, Vince's face against his cheek, the scent of Vince's hair in his nostrils. Howard pulled the blankets around Vince, cocooning him into a little parcel of his own body heat. He rubbed his hand against Vince's thin back, trying to friction some warmth into him.

“You know, Howard?”, Vince asked.

“Yes, Vince?”.

“You once told me that you radiant more heat when you're naked”.

“ _Radiate_ more heat. Yes, I did. It was when we went camping in the woods. Well, I'm impressed that you remembered one of my first aid lectures, Vince”.

“So, if you took off your nightshirt too, wouldn't you warm me up faster?”.

“How about I just close the window?”, Howard said.

“Go on”, nagged Vince. “You'd be more comfortable”.

There was a small sigh, just a huff of air, and then Howard took off his nightshirt, neatly folding it before returning to the warmth of the bed, and the feel of Vince's skin against his.

“Thanks, Howard”, said Vince. “You feel really warm”. He cuddled into Howard's side, Howard being very careful not to lie front to front with Vince.

There was a long silence, then, “Howard?”.

“Mm?”.

“What memory did you have? You know, when the plant tinkled and made us all remember happy things?”.

“I remembered that holiday we went on”, said Howard quietly. “We went to the seaside together, and we stayed in that horrible little cottage, and it rained most days. But I was so happy, because we were together, and we laughed all the time, and I'd build up the fire in the fireplace, and we'd drink cocoa under a blanket. I still have all those photos, and whenever I look at them, I feel really happy”.

“Yeah, I remember that. It was a brilliant holiday”, Vince said, and Howard could tell from his voice he was grinning.

“What did you remember?”, Howard asked.

“Oh, um … that day at the zoo when Fossil said we could have the afternoon off because all the flamingos had scurvy”, said Vince nervously. “And, er … we had a cup of tea and some biscuits, and did a jigsaw puzzle of a Canadian landscape”.

“Really? That was your happy memory?”, Howard asked in surprise. “Nothing happened, and you kept trying to jam a piece of sky into the bear's face”.

“Yes, but it was nice”, said Vince, more firmly. He put his arms around Howard to spoon him, before saying, “Maroo said we need to get used to sleeping apart from each other”.

“Or we could make the most of the time we have left”, Howard said. “Good night, Vince”.

Vince smiled as he said goodnight back, and they both drifted off to sleep. Howard could feel something pressing into his thighs, but decided to ignore it.

****************************************

Howard and Vince were out of bed and dressed when Maroo arrived with their breakfast. Vince insisted she sit at the table and explain exactly what everything was before he would eat anything.

“So this isn't made from testicles?”, he demanded, holding up his favourite sweet paste.

“No, that's just koobernut butter”, Maroo assured him.

Howard asked Maroo if she'd like to have breakfast with them, and she accepted at once, saying Howard was very kind to think of her. Vince looked slightly sulky.

“And what are you up to today?”, Maroo asked, spreading jam on a pastry.

“I'm not really sure”, Howard said, and then there came a loud knock at the door, and a shout from Dennis that he was coming in.

“Good morning all”, said Dennis in a self-satisfied way. “The Poberdys are holding a small party tonight. Very casual, very relaxed. Nothing to worry about”.

“Who'll be there?”, asked Howard suspiciously.

“Just Naboo's closest friends and family”, said Dennis. “There's no need to get dressed up. I'll collect you on the carpet on my way over”.

“I don't trust him”, Howard said as soon as Dennis had gone.

“Yeah, last time he tried to make you bring a present that would offend Naboo's parents”, Vince said. “If he says don't dress up, we'd better get dressed up”.

Maroo agreed that they were right to be suspicious, and suggested they go back to the fashion district that morning. She also offered to lend Vince her sewing machine, in case he wanted to buy materials to make their own clothes for the wedding.

“That's very kind of you, thank you Maroo”, Howard said. He signalled meaningfully to Vince with his eyebrows, and Vince added, “Yeah, that sounds okay”.

As soon as Howard had washed the dishes, he and Vince headed straight over to the fashion district in the markets. Vince bought them both new clothes and shoes, and also some material. He then borrowed a sewing machine from Maroo, and began making both he and Howard outfits for the wedding on Saturday. He'd bought several wedding magazines for ideas, and Howard found a bookstall with a slim volume on wedding etiquette that he thought he'd better brush up on.

Maroo had packed them a picnic for lunch, and suggested they have it in the Garden of Tranquillity, a public park about a mile from the marketplace. It was a hot walk to the garden, but Howard had found some baggy shorts and a tropical print shirt to wear, and Vince never seemed to feel the heat much. The garden was cool and verdant, with raised walkways lined with fruit trees, so that you were at the perfect height to pick fruit, and pavilions set by lovely water features.

Howard and Vince walked under the shady trees, Howard holding Vince's hand after he almost tripped over a decorative rock. Howard read the information cards and shared them with Vince, until Vince said he'd prefer to just enjoy the tranquillity. After a while they lay down under a tree to rest, Vince using Howard as a pillow for his head.

“Howard, what's going to happen after you're married to Naboo?”, Vince asked.

“I expect things will be pretty much the same”, Howard answered. “Of course, Naboo and I won't really be a couple”.

“But you have to go to Xooberon for three months!”, said Vince.

“Well, I went to Denmark for three months”, said Howard reasonably. “You were okay”.

“Oh, was I?”, Vince said snarkily, lifting his head to glare at Howard.

“I know what this is about”, Howard said, “why you're upset about me marrying Naboo”.

“Yes?”, Vince said in a small voice.

“You're worried about being left to run the shop all alone”, smiled Howard. “But it's alright. Naboo will get Adam again, and he'll help out until I get back”.

Vince flopped back on Howard with an aggrieved sigh. “You think getting Adam in fixed everything when you went to Denmark? Well, it didn't! I _missed_ you Howard. I missed you so much it hurt to breathe”.

“Well, I missed you too”, said Howard. “When I was in Denmark. It was the same for me”.

“You really missed me?”, Vince said, leaning up to look at Howard again. “I thought you were just swanning around meeting poncey actors and talking about philosophy with dickhead directors”.

“No, I missed you so much I had trouble acting, and Jurgen sent me to a doctor”, Howard explained.

“A doctor? You missed me that much?”, asked Vince in surprise. “Did he help?”.

“Yes, he helped me with a lot of things, actually”, Howard said calmly.

“So why didn't you ever write?”, asked Vince crossly.

“I thought you were angry with me”, said Howard. “You always seemed to be in a bad mood before I left. Why didn't you write?”.

“Lost your address”, Vince admitted. “And … didn't know what to say. I was waiting for you to write first, then I would of written back”.

“I'm sorry for not writing”, said Howard. “And tell you what – why don't you stay on Xooberon with me and Naboo?”.

“Really? I'd be allowed to come?”, asked Vince in delighted disbelief.

“I can't see why not. Naboo would bring Bollo, and I'd bring you. And Naboo would miss you as well, and he wouldn't really like to leave you in charge of the shop for three months anyway”.

“That would be brilliant”, said Vince.

“I should have taken you to Denmark when I went too”, Howard said ruefully.

“Yes, you bloody should of”, Vince said. “We would have had a great time. Eating Danish pastries … um, buying a Great Dane … I don't know any other Danish things”.

Howard laughed, and told him to get up for lunch, which they ate in a pavilion near a waterfall, flowing into a great green pool. Thanks to a few hints from Howard, Maroo had done such a good job making food that Earth people could recognise as a picnic that Vince began to think he'd been too hard on her. After lunch, they walked down to the side of the pool, and found there was a narrow path that led behind the waterfall.

“This is nice”, Vince said, watching the water cascade right in front of them.

“Yeah. It's cool, and the dripping noise actually sounds quite jazzy, like a sharp ninth chord that's edgy and bluesy. A sort of _three, four, skiddly boh woo_ sort of noise”, Howard agreed.

“It's dark and private”, Vince said quietly. “As if we could say anything to each other here”.

“Actually, Vince. That reminds me”, Howard said, clearing his throat. “I've been reading a book on Xooberon wedding etiquette, and some of their customs are quite strange”.

“You don't have to deflower the wedding attendant, do you?”, asked Vince flirtatiously.

“Haha, no. Nothing like that”, replied Howard. “But then again, some of their customs are exactly the same as ours”.

“Yeah?”.

“For example, after Dennis pronounces us married, we have to kiss each other, just like at Earth weddings. The thing is, I feel … feel very nervous about it. Because … because I've never kissed anyone before”.

“You kissed _me_ ”, Vince said in a dangerously calm voice. “On the roof. Don't you even _remember_ that?”.

“Of course I do”, Howard said. “It's just that … well, it was more a case of you kissing me”.

“Oh right, so you weren't involved at all!”, Vince said angrily.

“I just meant, well, you were doing the heavy lifting, so to speak”, Howard said awkwardly. “I was sitting there like a big useless lump, getting kissed, and having my … well, I didn't do much”.

“You did enough”, Vince said grudgingly.

“So I think I need … a bit of a refresher course”, finished Howard.

“Are you asking to practice kissing on me?”, asked Vince slowly.

Howard nodded.

“While you pretend I'm Naboo?”, Vince continued.

“Ah yes. In a manner of speaking”, Howard said shiftily.

“Okay”, Vince said.

“Really? You're saying yes?”, Howard asked. He was surprised – Vince seemed quite annoyed with him, and he'd made a bit of a mess at asking.

“Yeah”, Vince said. “Where do you want me?”.

“You need to get down low, so you're at Naboo's height”, Howard said.

“I'm not kneeling on wet stone while you snog me and pretend I'm Naboo!”, Vince said in a temper.

“Just sit on this nice smooth dry stone”, Howard said soothingly. Vince did so, with an air of martyrdom. “Okay, how do I start”.

“Maybe hold my face”, Vince suggested.

“Wow, you're so low to the ground, this is going to do my back in”, Howard complained. “What about this?”.

“Grip's a bit tight”, Vince said. Howard apologised, and held Vince more gently. “Now just … just kiss me”.

Howard stumbled forward, and almost banged his mouth into Vince's.

“Ow!”.

“I'm sorry, just give me a moment, I'll try again”.

“That was my nose!”.

“Look, sorry … I think I just bumped you”.

“Ouch! Teeth!”.

“I'm sorry, Vince. I don't actually think I can kiss”, Howard said miserably. He looked so hang-dog that Vince said:

“You're probably overthinking it. It's just a simple kiss. Like this”.

He stood up and brushed his lips lightly over Howard's. It was a kiss he'd perfected in a dozen Camden hangouts, a good kiss for getting away from someone a bit too clingy. Say, _Gotta go. Check you later?_ , then lean down, give them a Vince Noir Special, and they didn't mind so much you'd basically ditched them to talk to someone far more interesting.

Vince stood back, and waited to see how Howard reacted.

“Buh”, Howard said stupidly. “Bop be bibble”.

“What? Have you forgotten how to _talk_?”.

“Bliss. I mean, bless. The best”.

“Howard, are you okay?”.

“Yes, excellent”, said Howard glassily. “Never better. Ten Q berry such. I mean, thank you very much”.

Vince wasn't quite satisfied. No one he'd ever given a Vince Noir Special to had reacted like this before. Maybe Howard was suffering from heatstroke. Or just a plain stroke.

****************************************

When Dennis came to pick them up, both Howard and Vince were dressed to the nines in the very latest Xooberon fashions. Dennis gave them a look of chagrin, and told them to get on the carpet. Howard was getting better on the carpet, but still needed Vince to hold his hand. That's what he told himself, anyway.

The Poberdy's home made Naboo's look like a filthy old shack. Howard at first wondered if they had their own city, there were so many buildings, all lit up, and even their own network of roads connecting them all. When Dennis parked the flying carpet outside the largest of them, they had to walk up an enormous set of steps to an enormous front door, where they were let in by a servant. (At least, Howard hoped it was a servant, and not a slave).

There seemed to be hundreds of guests at the party, and they were all beautifully dressed. Howard gave Dennis a raised eyebrow as they walked through the magnificence of the Poberdy mansion, Vince strutting a little, because he couldn't see anyone who looked as good as he did. Dennis had the grace to look slightly ashamed. “Bit bigger party than I expected”, he muttered.

A servant (hopefully) went past with a tray of drinks, and they all took a glass of wine. Howard took a sip as he looked up and down the room, until he heard a horribly familiar voice.

“Dennis, my man! Lay some skin on me”, said a nasal whine, coming from a pink octopus-thing in a papoose. “And here's Tom Selleck and his gorgeous Indian wife”.

He waggled his non-existent eyebrows suggestively at Howard, and leered at Vince. Vince preened himself, and glanced at Howard to see if he was going to defend his honour, but Howard seemed too frozen to do or say anything.

“What are you doing with this pair of plum preserves?”, said Saboo in a superior tone, as he adjusted the papoose slightly. “And why have I been left to carry Tony Harrison, as usual?”.

“I'm just enjoying the party with Howard and Vince here, not keeping them under surveillance or anything”, Dennis explained. “Where's Kirk?”.

“Performing acts of unspeakable perversion”, said Saboo carelessly.

At this point, the blond-haired Kirk joined them, drinking from a glass of what looked like blood.

“Kirk, have you been performing acts of unspeakable perversion?”, asked Dennis.

“Yes”, Kirk replied, his blank blue eyes twin chasms of infinite evil.

Howard was relieved to see Mrs Poberdy walk towards them with Naboo. Taking Vince's hand, he went over to say hello, and actually managed to lean down and kiss Naboo on the cheek without falling over. Vince scowled.

“Oh, Howard! Thank you for coming to our little pre-wedding party”, smiled Mrs Pobedry. “It's really just family and close friends, but of course, you will be part of our family very soon”.

Howard muttered his thanks, and wondered whether he should kiss Mrs Poberdy as well.

“You're looking very handsome this evening”, Mrs Poberdy said playfully, “and Vince is absolutely stunning. Are you sure you want to marry Naboo, when your wedding attendant is so beautiful?”.

“Looks aren't everything”, said Howard, as Vince turned a hurt face towards him. “Naboo and I connect on a higher level, more … er, intellectual. Besides, I think Naboo is very … very …. um …. quite …. sort of cute, in his own way”. Vince looked disgusted.

“If only my son wasn't absolutely stoned out of his mind, he might actually enjoy your lovely compliments”, laughed Mrs Poberdy, affectionately giving Naboo a squeeze. “He's been smoking frogs all afternoon, and is practically in a walking coma. Why don't you take him over to see his nice friends?”.

It took Howard a little while to realise The Shaman Council were Naboo's “nice friends”, but once he'd made the connection, he nodded and forced a smile, putting his arm around Naboo and steering him to where the shamans were currently drinking themselves to oblivion. Vince had his arm lightly on Naboo's other shoulder.

“Hey Howard!”, called Tony Harrison. “When you're married to Naboo, you'll be able to come along to all our shaman parties”.

“Great”, said Howard, thinking how ghastly that sounded. Somehow he had a glass in each hand. He drank from both glasses at once.

“Don't worry, you can still bring your pretty girlfriend”, Tony Harrison said.

“Get stuffed, I don't want your slimy tentacles all over me”, said Vince, who'd given up on Howard defending his honour and decided to do it himself.

“Ah, you're safe with Uncle Tony, sweetheart”, Tony Harrison said. “Not to say I wouldn't mind riding a certain moustache. No, it's that slag Saboo who hungers to do filthy things to your lithe and slender form. It's an outrage!”.

“Shit off”, said Saboo, nevertheless looking rather embarrassed. “If anyone's a slag around here, it's you, Tony, you gigantic ballsack”.

“We shamans are very broad-minded that way”, Tony Harrison went on. “That's why Dennis got divorced, eh Dennis?”.

“I don't think we need to discuss that”, said Dennis with dignity.

“You see, Methusaleh wanted it all one way – her having anyone she wanted, while poor Dennis here got nothing”, Tony Harrison said with a simulacrum of sympathy. “Not right is it? And when Dennis got tired of being a good boy, and took just the tiniest roll in the hay with a sweet little morsel during a shamanic orgy, Methusaleh wouldn't put up with it”.

“Shut up, Harrison”, said a red-faced Dennis through gritted teeth.

“Not that we weren't all a bit surprised with Dennis' choice”, Tony Harrison went on cheerfully. “I mean, more surprised they chose Dennis, really. What do you say, Naboo? Gonna let us have a bit of fun with your new spouse? Fair's fair, you've had a little share of Mrs H”.

“Yeah, whatever”, said Naboo, staring into the distance.

“Haha, don't mind them, just a bit of harmless joshing between pals”, Dennis said nervously to Howard and Vince, proffering a plate in their direction. “Would you care for some owl beaks? They're delicious”.

“Yuck, no thanks”, Vince said in disgust.

“Go on Howard, owl beaks are part of every shaman party, aren't they Kirk?”, Saboo said.

“Yes”, confirmed Kirk.

“Well, okay then”, said Howard, who'd drunk a bit too much to put up any argument, and was no longer suspicious that Dennis, Saboo, and Tony Harrison were acting like his new best friends. He took an owl beak, and then another.

“Got quite a kick to them”, he said, waving cool air against his mouth.

“Yes, they'll put hair on your chest”, said Dennis.

“Good though”, said Howard, taking another owl beak and two more swigs of drink to wash it down.

“Maybe ease up now”, Dennis suggested. “You don't want to go crazy your first time. See how they go”.

A memory stirred somewhere deep in Howard's mind. “I think I remember Naboo mentioning owl beaks once”, he said. “What was that in regard to, Naboo?”.

Naboo gave a sudden laugh. “Owl beaks! Owl beaks! Let's all have owl beaks”.

“Only one for you”, said Dennis solicitously, picking out an owl beak and letting Naboo eat it from his hand. “You know what effect they have on you”.

“Owl beak”, agreed Naboo, crunching his up.

“Isn't this nice?”, Howard said out of nowhere. “All of us, here, drinking, and eating owl beaks, together. All mates. All great mates, together at a big party”.

“That's right”, said Dennis. “I want you to think of Naboo's friends as your friends too, Howard”. He clapped an arm around Howard in an affable fashion, and put another around Naboo.

Howard had possibly drunk a little too much to notice that Dennis didn't eat any owl beaks, nor did he offer them to anyone else.

****************************************

Howard looked over at Vince, unaware how yearning his expression was. Vince was … well, he knew Vince was beautiful. Had always known it. That's why he tried not to look at him too much, didn't want to get caught staring. But tonight … tonight, Vince was especially beautiful.

He was wearing a black chiffon robe covered in sequinned stars over thigh-high silver boots, and heavy make-up lining his eyes, making them look even brighter blue, the lashes impossibly dark and long. When Vince closed his eyes, Howard could see the lids had been painted blue and silver, and his mouth looked red and full. He was perfect, Howard thought. He could imagine himself holding Vince, pulling him into his arms.

Vince was talking with Tony, Saboo, and Kirk, giggling over something Tony Harrison had said. Vince had the most exquisite laugh, Howard thought. It was … sexy. There was no other word for it. Throaty, flirtatious, completely letting himself go. He wasn't afraid to make himself vulnerable. Howard watched Saboo gently tuck a strand of Vince's hair back into place, and felt himself shake a little. He would have no trouble kissing Vince now, he was sure. He longed to punch Saboo out, then crush Vince to his chest, burying his fingers in his hair, covering those rich red lips with his own mouth …

All at once, Dennis clapped his hands loudly, and shouted, “Everyone! It is time for the Purification Ceremonies! Let Howard and Naboo be taken to their separate purification chambers!”.

“What's going on?”, asked Howard in confusion.

“You and Naboo must undergo the purification ritual before you are married”, Dennis said. “And as Vince is your attendant, it is his duty to purify you. He has been instructed by Saboo”.

“It's okay, Howard. I've got this”, Vince said, his pale face earnest. “I know what to do”.

Howard and Naboo found themselves almost dragged to where two bathrooms stood opposite each other, and then Vince led Howard into the left hand one, and Naboo was taken by all the shamans, Tony Harrison gleefully calling that it was an outrage, and Saboo telling everyone with satisfaction that they were coming to the crunch.

The massive bathroom was all black marble, dimly lit with candles. The fact that the room was entirely black struck Howard as rather sinister. At the same time, he found it arousing. Almost everything was arousing.

“Come on, time to take your clothes off”, said Vince in a soft excited voice, his fingers smoothly unbuttoning and unzipping and untying, so that Howard was completely naked in less than two minutes. He was glad now the light in the bathroom was so dim.

“And into the bath”, coaxed Vince. “Sit on the edge and then …”.

“What bath?”, said Howard dopily, as he slid from the smooth edge into warm water.

The bath was set into the floor, and deep enough to cover Howard almost to his chest. The tiny Naboo would be swimming if his bath was the same depth.

“And now I have to wash you all over”, said Vince happily. “They explained it to me exactly. Wash you from top to toe, not missing any nooks or crannies”.

“Oh, I think you can skip the nooks and crannies”, Howard said nervously, as Vince picked up a bottle with _Purifying Body Wash_ written on it.

Vince started literally at the top by washing Howard's hair. Howard couldn't remember the last time someone had shampooed his hair, and it felt wonderful. Vince's fingertips massaging his scalp, his skin tingling at the touch, intimate and warm.

“Head forward”, said Vince, as he washed the back of Howard's head, and began working on his neck and shoulders. Howard thought it was so relaxing he could fall asleep, except that being washed was awakening every fibre of his being.

“It will be so cool when you're married, and we can go to all the shaman parties”, Vince chattered eagerly, smoothing his hands over Howard's biceps, and snaking down to his wrists.

“What? No! I don't want you mixing with the shamans, Vince”, said Howard in a panic, his mind swirling with images of Saboo and Tony Harrison performing acts of inconceivable filth upon the strangely innocent Vince. These images made him tingle hotly all over, almost painfully.

“Don't be selfish”, pouted Vince. “We always get left behind whenever Naboo has shaman business. Now we get to go on all the adventures too”.

“They … they can't be trusted, Vince”, Howard said, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as Vince began washing his hands, right down to the fingertips.

“I think they're nice”, Vince said. “Saboo gave me a lovely drink, better than a flirtini. And he said I'm beautiful. Do _you_ think I'm beautiful, Howard?”. Vince was now washing his chest, and rubbing his thumbs over Howard's stiff wet nipples as he coyly asked this question.

“Oh God, Vince”, moaned Howard, arching his back, and gripping the sides of the bath. “You're … beautiful isn't even the word”.

“What is the word?”, whispered Vince, before he interrupted himself. “Oh, hello! Where have you been hiding, you monster?”. He stared at Howard's stiff red cock admiringly, as it floated in the water like a rare coral.

“I really don't think you're meant to wash that”, Howard gasped, trying to cover himself with his hands. Damn Vince for getting him in this state!

“Oh no, that's the most important part of your body to purify”, Vince said, with the pride of someone who's learned a lesson by rote. “Saboo said it needs to be very, very clean and pure for your wedding night”.

“You bloody fool – Naboo and I aren't having a wedding night!”, Howard shouted, and then there was a gasp as Vince's hands took hold of him. Vince's strong, yet gentle hands, the hands of an artist. Able tools for transformation, and not afraid to get dirty.

“Oh, fuck”, Howard moaned. All the tingling and pleasure in his body was now focused on one point, a singularity which threatened to become infinite and then destroy the universe, winking out into an eternal darkness. “You've got to stop this, or else”.

“It's taking a long time because you're so big”, purred Vince, his tongue sliding out of his lips involuntarily, a little hitch in his voice as he kept flicking his wrist over and over with practised precision. “Now what was the word for me, big boy?”.

“Oh God, you little tart”, groaned Howard. “You're so … so … _shiny_ ”. The last word was a sigh, coming on the third spasm, which left the universe a starless vacancy.

****************************************

When they emerged from the bathroom, Howard and Vince were greeted with a cacophony of jeers and catcalls from the riotous shamans.

“Well, hello big boy!”, called Saboo. “You idiotic owl-beak eating plum”.

“Yeah, and the shiny little tart!”, cackled Tony Harrison. “Oh blimey, I just about shit my papoose when I heard that, didn't I Kirk?”.

“Yes”, Kirk said with ominous glee.

Howard and Vince gaped stupidly at them.

“I'm afraid my son's friends have played a little prank on you”, said Mr Poberdy, coming forward, and looking as if he was trying not to laugh himself. “They plied you with booze and owl beaks, then pretended you needed a bath”.

“Pretended?”, echoed Howard.

“Yes – there's no Purification Ritual, or anything like that”, said Mr Poberdy. “If it makes you feel any better, it was a lot worse for Naboo”.

The little shaman looked almost shell-shocked as he staggered out of the opposite bathroom, a glimpse telling Howard it was all white marble. Naboo was wrapped in a large towel, and even under these circumstances, had somehow retained his innate dignity.

“You absolute berks”, he said to the shamans. “You complete and utter ballbags”.

Howard's heart went out to him. What had those vile shamans done to Naboo – good, honest Naboo, their truest friend? He wanted to ask Naboo if he was okay, to comfort him. Perhaps offer a kind word, or a pat on his shoulder.

Instead he strode over to Naboo, picked him up like a doll, towel and all, and gave him a Howard Moon Special. It is difficult to say who looked the more horrified – Vince or Naboo.

(NB: A Howard Moon Special is exactly like a Vince Noir Special, except that the kisser has a moustache.)

****************************************

Nobody spoke on the carpet ride home. Mr Poberdy has sent them home on one of his own luxurious flying carpets, operated by one of his most trusted servants (at least, I hope they were a servant).

“Don't worry, Howard”, Mr Poberdy had said kindly as he saw them off. “These things happen at pre-wedding parties. They're all meant in the spirit of fun, and the boys were just letting off some steam. There's no harm done”.

The servant (I hope) stopped outside their apartments so they could alight. Howard went to give him a tip, then realised he'd left the change from his pockets in the Poberdys' black marble bathroom. Then he realised he didn't know if a tip would be an insult, or even illegal, so he contented himself with just thanking the man profusely.

After Howard unlocked the front door, he stood uncertainly in the living room, as Vince confronted him, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Howard, I'm starting to think you really do want to marry Naboo”, he said angrily. “You said you connect with him on an intellectual level, and think he's cute, and you want to keep him to yourself at shaman parties. You can't kiss me, but you don't have any problem snogging Naboo!”.

“Vince, I can explain”, Howard said. “I … there's something I need to tell you”.

“What is it?”, demanded Vince.

“Vince … I … you see, it's like this”, and then Howard collapsed on the settee, face first.

****************************************

When Howard woke up, he was still on the settee, and it was morning. His head was killing him, he felt sick, and he had a terrible crick in his neck.

He went into the kitchen, and found the remains of breakfast, which made his stomach roil. There was a note on the table from Vince:

_Howard – I've gone out with Dennis to decorate for the wedding, arrange the flowers, finish the seating plan, make up gift bags, and do last minute shopping. Wedding is at 3 pm. I will be back in time to help you dress and do your hair. Vince_

Howard went into Maroo's little shop, and gave her a glum greeting.

“Ooh, Howard – you look terrible”, Maroo said candidly. “What's wrong?”.

“Too much alcohol and too many owl beaks last night”, Howard replied, with some bitterness.

Maroo laughed. “If there's anything we know about on Xooberon, it's hangover cures”, she said, bustling around the shop to the right section, and mixing up a fizzy raspberry-red drink for Howard.

He drank it down all in one gulp, and the world seemed to swim into place a moment later.

“Thanks. Much better”, he said.

“So you were taking owl beaks the night before your wedding?”, Maroo said suggestively.

“Not my idea”, Howard assured her. “I think they're some sort of … aphrodisiac?”.

“Yes”, Maroo said. “Pretty standard for pre-wedding parties. How wild did things get?”.

“Only moderately”, said Howard evasively. “I gather they were worse for my fiance”.

Maroo gave a little giggle, and said, “I'll bring you over some breakfast. Something solid – pastries and jam are no good after a night of drinking and debauchery”.

“Not actual debauchery”, objected Howard as he left the shop.

While waiting for Maroo, Howard had a long hot shower, washed his hair, and brushed his teeth. Looking around for something to put on, he found a loose robe in a dark red velvety fabric that reminded him of a dressing gown, and put it on.

“Hello? It's only me”, called Maroo, coming in with a tray of delicious-smelling food just as Howard was tying his robe.

Howard ate his way through a sweet porridge made from the yellow grain topped with fruit and something creamy, then a dish rather like an omelette wrapped in flatbread, before he moved his chair away from the table, and said, “Maroo, that breakfast was a masterpiece. You are a poet in the kitchen”.

“I'm in the main bedroom, Howard”, Maroo called. “Just making up the bed with clean sheets”.

“I'll come and help you”, Howard said, getting up from his chair.

“That's not necessary”, Maroo said.

“I insist”, said Howard. “You've taken such good care of us”. He helped her replace the quilt.

“It's my job”, smiled Maroo, fluffing pillows. “I want everyone who stays here to have a wonderful time”.

“Well, you've made things a lot easier for me and Vince”, Howard said, lying down on the freshly-made bed. He still felt tired after the night before.

“You must be looking forward to your wedding”, Maroo suggested, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“To be honest, I wonder if I'm making a mistake”, Howard admitted.

“That's how everyone feels on their wedding day”, said Maroo. “You just have what we on Xooberon call _iron feet_ , slow to walk down the aisle”.

“On Earth we call it _cold feet_ ”, said Howard.

“Why cold?”, wondered Maroo.

“I actually don't know”, said Howard after a moment's thought. “Maybe just that when you get cold, you shiver like you're nervous?”.

“And what makes your feet cold?”, said Maroo.

“It's all getting too complicated, and there's someone else I … have feelings for”, Howard said slowly.

“Have you told them how you feel?”, Maroo asked breathlessly, lying down on the bed next to Howard.

“No, I … I've got cold feet over that too”, Howard said with a sigh.

“Howard, what do you do on your own planet?”, Maroo asked, turning on her side to look at him.

“I've been many things. An explorer of both the wild jungle and the frozen tundra. An aspiring author and photographer. A zoologist and wild animal controller. But most of all, a musician”, Howard said. “I'm a pan-instrumentalist singer-songwriter in the electro-funk-jazz genre, and co-inventor of crimping”.

“How wonderful!”, Maroo said. “You must be so talented. Could you sing one of your compositions for me? Please?”.

Howard thought quickly. Every one one of the songs he'd written needed Vince's voice, they'd all been written for Vince as the frontman. And he didn't have his guitar or any other instrument with him, which it turned out, made a huge difference. Without the instruments they were written on, he didn't think he could perform his own material. On the other hand, he didn't want to disappoint Maroo.

“Er, okay”, he said hesitantly. “Um, this is a new song I've been working on recently”. He coughed a lot, then began singing:

_With twilight falling_  
_The moon is calling sweet Maroo_  
_What the sea tells only sea shells_  
_Are whispering sweet Maroo_

_Into the darkness goes this message, sweet Maroo_  
_Some lovers are sometimes parted_  
_They must end what they have started_  
_All that's left is the brokenhearted_  
_I must depart, my sweet Maroo_

"You wrote a song about me?", Maroo said in disbelief. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. But Howard, you don't need to depart brokenhearted". She rolled closer to Howard and gave him a kiss on the cheek that ended in a nuzzle.

"Oh, that's just bloody great", Vince said in a temper, dumping his shopping bags on the kitchen floor. "First you snog Naboo right in my face, now you're snogging Maroo behind my back".

"It's not what it looks like", Howard said hurriedly, sitting up and retying his robe a bit tighter.

"Howard was just singing a lovely song he wrote about me as a little goodbye present, and I gave him a peck on the cheek to say thank you", Maroo said in a conciliatory tone. But Vince didn't look conciliated.

"That was a Thin Lizzy song – he just changed _Marie_ to _Maroo_!", he raged. "And I knew you fancied Howard. You've been trying to get your hands on him all this time".

"You're crazy!", said Maroo, sitting up on her elbows. "As if I'd go after someone who's going to marry a shaman! Shamans are powerful, I don't want to anger them.

"When has it been a crime to find someone attractive anyway?", she continued, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and smoothing down the skirt of her uniform. "Yes, Howard is very attractive, but if anything, I'm more attracted to you! And I don't care if that song _was_ by Lizzy, it was sweet that Howard changed the words to fit my name".

"Wait – you're more attracted to me?", Vince said with a grin. "What exactly is it about me that you find attractive? Is it my eyes, or my cheekbones? Or my hair? What about my legs?".

"It's your arse", said Maroo crossly, "and the best part about seeing it is that it means I'm leaving!". She stormed out of their apartment in a huff.

"I knew she fancied me", Vince said, sitting on the bed next to Howard. "Even when she was acting like she fancied you, I knew that was her way of saying, _Hi Vince, you big sex machine. Meet me in five minutes for the shag of_ _your life, baby_ ".

"Settle down, Austin Powers", said Howard with an eye roll. "Did you get all the wedding stuff done okay?".

Vince nodded. "Dennis is getting very bossy over every detail, though", he said. "Anyone would think it was _his_ wedding”.

“Vince, you know I'm only marrying Naboo to save his life, don't you?”, Howard said seriously, grabbing Vince's hand to stop him walking away.

Vince nodded. “Yeah. And I really do want to save Naboo's life too, Howard”.

“Good”, said Howard. “I'm pretty nervous about getting married, to be quite honest”.

“What about?”.

“Mostly about us all getting executed”, confessed Howard. “But apart from the ever-present threat of imminent death, I still don't think I can kiss Naboo in public”.

“Uh, you kissed him at the party last night in front of everyone, Howard”, Vince reminded him.

“I was off my tits on owl beaks!”, Howard exclaimed. “I don't think I can do it stone cold sober”.

“Well, we've got time to have a little practice now”, Vince said, trying not to sound excited. “Don't bother trying to make me kneel down or pretend I'm Naboo or anything. Just kiss me”.

Howard slowly put his arms around Vince, looked deep into his eyes, leaned his face down a little, and gave him a Howard Moon Special, a soft sweet press of his lips against Vince's.

“How was that?”, Howard asked shyly.

“That was … wow … amazing”, said Vince, his eyes shining up at Howard. “But, er … d'you think you could maybe go …. I dunno … a little bit …. deeper?”.

“I don't think you should stick your tongue down your spouse's throat after saying your wedding vows, Vince”, said Howard doubtfully. “And Naboo would freak out”.

“Just a little bit of tongue”, said Vince persuasively. “And if it doesn't look convincing, what's gonna happen to Naboo?”.

“Um, okay”, said Howard nervously. “Let me know if this is alright”.

He gave a little lick across Vince's lips, and then the tips of their tongues met, gently exploring each other. Howard stroked a strand of Vince's hair into place, and then he drew back, looking at Vince to see how he responded.

“Yeah, that was alright”, Vince said, struggling to keep his voice even. “More than alright. How about, once more, just to make sure you've really got it memorised?”.

He didn't think Howard would agree, but before he knew what was happening, Howard was scooping him into his arms, cupping Vince's head in one huge hand while the other ran down his back. And Howard was kissing him – proper snogging him, without ever losing that feeling of being gentle and respectful, as if Vince was the most precious thing in the world. Vince had never been kissed like that before, and it made him feel weak and fragile. He was positively dizzy.

“Howard?”, he gasped, holding on to the front of Howard's robe.

“Mm?”. Howard tangled his fingers into Vince's hair, and kissed his throat.

“I feel … a bit tired from kissing”.

“You want to stop, little man?”, Howard asked in concern. He hadn't meant to wear Vince out.

“No … but … um, Howard? Could we lie down for a minute?”.

In answer, Howard pulled Vince onto the bed beside him and gave him a very soft kiss, to show that he understood Vince was a delicate flower. Vince pulled Howard's robe open, and kissed his chest, looking up at him with a mischievous expression that made Howard forget all about treating Vince as if he was delicate. There was a growl in his throat as he leapt on Vince, his mouth almost attacking him.

Howard rolled onto his back, and pulled Vince on top of him, holding his hips in place, his hands gripping his arse (his best feature, according to Maroo). They kept snogging until Howard was hard, and involuntarily arching himself into Vince. Feeling Vince's answering hardness pressed into his hip made him moan, and when Vince rolled himself tightly into Howard, Howard dimly wondering why it was their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly.

“We have to stop”, Howard panted, although quickly running a line of kisses down Vince's jaw.

Vince gave a little whine of disappointment. “Why?”, he pouted.

“I have to get married”.

Vince sighed, and rebelliously gave Howard an extra hard snog, while running his hands through Howard's hair, before he pulled back, saying, “Okay”. He looked at Howard with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his eyes somehow darker and yet more vivid.

“You're so … so beautiful Vince”, Howard said, unable to believe that _he_ had made Vince look so lovely and desirable.

“And you're fucking gorgeous, Howard”, said Vince sadly. “But now I have to get you ready to marry Naboo. We've got less than an hour”.

****************************************

Mr Poberdy's big luxurious carpet gently swooped down and was expertly parked outside The Temple of Love. It was a plump, pretty little Neoclassical building, pink marble with gold trim, set in a garden of pink flowering trees and bushes.

“Oh, this is nice”, said Howard, holding Vince's hand as he sat on a pile of comfortable silken cushions.

“Uh, you're actually getting married next door”, said Vince.

He pointed to The Temple of Matrimonial Obligation, a harsh grey stone monolith in Retrobrutalism set in a dull black courtyard, which managed to produce a gloomy air even on an afternoon of golden sunshine.

“Of course I am”, muttered Howard, as he alighted from the carpet.

He thanked the carpet operator and made the usual awkward motions one makes when one isn't sure whether to tip or not, but the carpet operator merely gave a formal wave and took off into the sky, so Howard decided that tipping wasn't customary, at least not to someone's (I hope) servant.

Howard almost expected to see a sign saying, ABANDON HOPE ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE on the Temple of Matrimonial Obligation, but there was only a banner: POBERDY-MOON WEDDING 3PM.

“I feel ridiculous in this get-up”, he complained to Vince as they walked up the steps together.

“Silver robes are traditional at Xooberon weddings”, said Vince. “One person wears gold and the other silver, and I already checked that Naboo is wearing gold”.

Howard mutinously scuffed his silver sandals. “I mean, you look incredible. I suppose it's traditional that the wedding attendant be the best-dressed person there”.

“I'm just wearing a simple cream tunic suit”, Vince said. “It's practically casual. I'm not going to outshine you, Howard”.

Howard sniffed his bouquet of fragrant pale green blooms, and thought everyone would be looking at Vince. Vince's cream tunic suit was picked out in both gold and silver, and he wore vibrant blue jewellery that made his eyes look more stunning than ever.

Vince took another step upstairs, and his tunic rode up so that anyone behind him could clearly see the outline of his little round bum in tight trousers. A cluster of photographers all started taking pictures, and Vince glanced over his shoulder to give them a cheeky wink, fluffing his hair with one hand.

The next day, the main headline in _The Xooberon City Daily Planet_ was _Wedding Attendant With Sexy Arse Spotted at Temple of Matrimonial Obligation: Generic-looking bozo gets married, but everyone's talking about his striking_ _wedding attendant! Bum goes viral, pictures pages 27-46_.

****************************************

“Oh, you two are finally here”, said Dennis crossly, pulling them into an antechamber just inside the door. “I thought you'd never arrive”.

Dennis was clad in a brown and white feather cape over a bare chest and stomach, which is apparently what he thought marriage celebrants should wear.

“We're ten minutes early”, Howard objected. “Is Naboo here?”.

“Yes”, Dennis nodded. “He's had to smoke a lot of weed to get through this, it's been very stressful for him”. He glared at Howard as if _he_ was responsible for all the stress Naboo was going through.

“Vince, would you mind taking Howard’s bouquet to keep it somewhere safe?”, Dennis asked warmly. “And perhaps you'd be kind enough to bring me a copy of the song list from the choir?”.

“Sure, Dennis”, Vince said, dashing off in his eagerness to do anything to help.

Dennis then squared off to Howard, as if getting rid of Vince had been his real objective.

“Look, you … Moon, whoever you are”, he said threateningly to Howard. “I don't trust you. I think you're marrying Naboo to get your hands on his money, and his share of the Poberdy fortune”.

“I didn't even know he had any money until the other day”, Howard said. “That doesn't make sense”.

“And there's something very fishy about the way you keep hanging around Vince”, Dennis went on.

“We're friends! And he's helping me with the wedding”, Howard said, trying to sound righteously indignant, and failing, because … well …

“Holding his hand all the time, and … the way you look at him!”, Dennis said furiously. “You've somehow weaselled your way into Naboo's affections, and I just know you're going to break his heart!”.

“I won't!”, Howard shouted.

“You keep escaping from every trap I lay for you, but by Xooberon, I will find you out, Moon Man, and then it will be the worse for you”, Dennis said, flexing his sword arm.

“Yeah? Well, when you come after me, I'll be ready”, Howard sneered. “I'll be on you like a powerful moss”.

“However, there is a way that this can all be settled in a civilised manner”, Dennis said, now sounding completely calm and reasonable. “After all, you don't want violence marring Naboo's special day, do you?”.

“Uh, no”, Howard said, confused by Dennis' sudden change of demeanour.

“I have here a bottle”, Dennis said, taking it from a side table to show Howard. “Inside it is a Truth Potion. A very powerful Truth Potion. It has no colour, no scent, no flavour.”

He held the bottle up dramatically to show its lack of interesting properties.

“You barely notice you are drinking it. It does not affect the drinker adversely – it creates no dizziness, no sleepiness, no headache, or other unpleasant effects”, Dennis went on. “At first, you feel exactly the same as before. Yet within half an hour, you will discover that the only words that can come from your mouth are the exact and unadorned truth!”.

“How … er, how fascinating”, said Howard nervously, licking his lips.

“What I propose is that you agree to drink this Truth Potion”, Dennis said. “The Oracle foresaw that the truth of the matter would come out very soon, which gave me the idea”.

“I think she meant it would come out naturally”, Howard suggested.

“Let's not leave it up to chance”, Dennis said. “If you have nothing to fear from telling the truth, then why would you refuse to drink the potion?”.

“Good point”, Howard said. “Um, okay then. I'll drink it”.

“It is just a minute or so to three o'clock, and the conjugal vows will be made around three-thirty”, Dennis said. “Drink the potion now, and then we will see what truth flows from your lips at the moment you make your sacred promise to Naboo”.

He poured the contents of the bottle into a glass from the same little table, and handed it to Howard. Howard smelt the fluid – as Dennis had said, it was both colourless and odourless. Howard tried to remember what else had neither hue, aroma nor flavour; as far as he could remember from high school Chemistry class, the description fitted a lot of poisons, such as thallium and arsenic.

He gave a little shrug, and held the glass to his lips. If he was about to die of poison, it was probably preferable to public execution by any of the methods Xooberon used.

“No! Howard!”, Vince screamed, rushing towards him. Howard had enough time to wonder how long Vince had been hiding there before Vince grabbed the glass from him, and downed the contents himself before turning to confront Dennis.

“You're not going to trick Howard into taking a Truth Potion”, he gasped. “You don't know what you're messing with, Dennis”.

“Dennis! If any harm comes to Vince from drinking that, I will hunt you down and kill you”, Howard shouted, and then he turned to Vince and said urgently, “Vince, do you feel okay? Does anything hurt?”.

“Yeah, I'm alright, Howard”, Vince said. “It was just a Truth Potion”.

“Vince won't come to any harm”, Dennis said, “but in half an hour, I believe I can get the truth out of him even more easily than out of you, Moony Man. Having your best friend betray you will make it just a little sweeter for me. Now, how about we go out? I've got a wedding to officiate”.

***************************************

Howard slowly carried his bouquet down the aisle of the temple, which was in a cross shape so that you ended up in a circle in the middle, with the congregation viewing you from four quarters around the circle. (Much more sensible than a church, where if you get stuck in a pew up the back you have no idea what's happening at the business end of things).

He had Vince beside him, and Dennis leading the way. When they all arrived in the middle, there was Naboo, resplendent in a gold robe, and with his best ape, a rather morose-looking Bollo. Howard gave Naboo a weak smile, which received one of Naboo's enigmatic expressions in return. Bollo looked at him in disgust. He wasn't happy about having to share Naboo with Howard.

The wedding service went on as usual. Dennis called upon the sacred elements of Earth, Wind, and Fire to protect everyone. Naboo and Howard had to walk clockwise for seven steps, then reverse and walk anticlockwise, backwards (Howard never learned what was the significance of this). Dennis gave a long-winded, boring speech on the value of marriage, and how its wearisome humdrum tedium was the cornerstone of society. (Dennis was heckled by the rest of the Shaman Council at this point, due to only remaining married himself for about six months).

The choir sang a mixture of traditional Xooberonian wedding chants, Fleetwood Mac, and Abba. Vince recited the only love poem he knew, which was _Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue_. There was a hum from the congregation afterwards, in awe of the poem's simple profundity, and quite a few of the Xooberon people had to wipe away sentimental tears. Bollo was asked to say a few words, which were, “I gotta bad feeling about this, because Harold a ballbag”. This was taken as typical wedding humour, and raised a polite smattering of laughter.

It was almost three-thirty when Dennis paused significantly, cleared his throat, and then asked, “Do any here object to the marriage between this shaman and this Earthman? If there has been any deceit involved, if anything is not as it appears, let them come forward now so that their claims may be fully investigated”.

Dennis finished by looking straight at Vince, and gave him a meaningful stare.

“ _I_ object”, said Vince, walking forward. “There _has_ been deceit involved – I haven't been honest, but I will be now”.

Howard gave him an anguished look as Vince walked over to stand beside him.

“Howard, I love you, and I don't want you to marry Naboo”, Vince said tenderly. “And I lied when I said my happiest memory was doing a jigsaw puzzle – it was kissing you on the roof. That was the best kiss of my life, until we kissed behind the waterfall, and then the best kiss of my life was when we kissed on the bed at the apartment. I think the last kiss I have with you is always going to be the best kiss of my life, Howard”.

“Vince ...”, Howard started.

“And when we were in the bathroom together, I really wanted to ...”.

“Okay, Vince, that's enough honesty for now”, Howard said quickly. “I love you too, little man. And if it makes you so unhappy, I won't marry Naboo. The whole thing's gotten completely out of hand, anyway”. He put his arms around Vince, and hugged him tight.

“You complete and utter pair of ballbags!”, Naboo cried. “You've left me in the lurch, just so you can run off and snog each other, you selfish pricks. I'm turning my back on you”.

But before Naboo could even begin turning, Dennis said smoothly, “In these cases, it is usual for the marriage celebrant to step in and take the place of the one who backs out of the wedding. Therefore, I, Dennis the Head of the Shaman Council, take you, Naboo Randolph Roberdy Poberdy the Enigma, to be my spouse from this moment now until the universe is eaten by a giant alligator and comes to an end. Here is your ring, I've already got mine on, rather conveniently, and now we kiss”.

Before Naboo had even realised what was happening, Dennis had picked him up in his arms, and given him a passionate kiss. Dennis clearly didn't agree with Howard that you couldn't stick your tongue down your spouse's throat after saying your wedding vows. There was a whoop from the congregation, who were finding this wedding much more exciting than the usual.

“I have to confess, Naboo, I've been very fond of you ever since that special night we shared, and it makes me so happy to be your spouse”, Dennis said, gazing at him lovingly.

“What the hell? Dennis, you ballbag, I can't even _remember_ that night! And I'm only getting married because otherwise I'll be executed”, Naboo said angrily.

There was a loud jeer from The Shaman Council, who were sitting right at the front in the eastern quadrant.

“I can't believe he fell for it!”, Tony Harrison cried. “Dennis I grant you, nobody is easier to fool than he is. But you bastards all said Naboo would never swallow it, but he did!”.

“Naboo really is a plum”, said Saboo smugly. “That's what comes of using wacky tobaccy all the time, making him paranoid. Right, Kirk?”.

“Yes”, said Kirk, lighting up a big thick joint and taking a puff.

“You mean … I didn't need to get married?”, asked Naboo. “But the letter looked so official, and it came by the High Council's own messenger”.

“Both fake”, said Tony Harrison gleefully. “Saboo wrote the letter himself, and the messenger was just Kirk wearing a disguise. The whole stratagem was devised by me”.

Mr and Mrs Poberdy came forward to comfort Naboo. “Naboo darling, we paid the fee centuries ago granting you an exemption from marriage”, said his mother.

“Yes, you must've got stoned and forgotten”, his father said. “Still, however it's happened, we're quite pleased that you're married to Dennis now”.

“It's fake, Dad! It's a completely fake marriage!”, Naboo shouted like a rebellious teenager.

“Married to the Head of the Shaman Council, that's quite impressive” Mrs Poberdy said. “His mansion isn’t far from ours”.

“Plus Dennis has common sense”, Mr Poberdy said. “You need someone like him looking out for you”.

“I really do care for Naboo”, Dennis said earnestly. “I'll do anything to protect my little darling”.

“Shut up, you pompous arse”, Naboo said between gritted teeth.

“How adorable, they already have pet names for each other”, said Mrs Poberdy. “Now Dennis, I hope you and Naboo will visit us often during your three-month honeymoon on Xooberon”.

“We don't want to invade your privacy”, Mr Poberdy assured him. “You two lovebirds will want to spend lots of time alone, and we understand that. It would just be very nice to see you occasionally. Shall we say, once a week?”.

“I would love that”, said Dennis, hugging his new parents-in-law. Naboo groaned theatrically, and looked to Bollo for support.

“Dennis big ballbag”, he said thoughtfully, “but not as big a ballbag as Harold. I've gotta good feeling about this”.

Naboo looked as if everyone was against him.

Howard and Vince had quietly retreated, and sat next to the shamans.

“I feel a bit guilty”, Howard said, his arm around Vince. Vince put his head on Howard's shoulder.

“Don't bother”, said Tony Harrison. “I was next to them at the orgy, and Naboo sounded very happy with Dennis. He's going to have a good time on his honeymoon. And Dennis is really smitten with Naboo”.

“But what about after the honeymoon?”, Vince asked anxiously. “I don't want Dennis hanging around our flat all the time”.

“They'll get divorced, obviously”, said Saboo scornfully. “I thought even you two plum pies could figure that much out”.

“Xooberon weddings may be long and arduous, but we do very speedy divorces”, Tony Harrison assured them. “Saboo and I have already got the divorce papers drawn up, ready for the big day”.

****************************************

“You did a great job organising the reception, Vince”, Howard said, giving Vince a little kiss.

“Thanks, Howard”, said Vince, his face glowing. “Although Dennis did a lot of it. And us ruining the wedding has really thrown the seating plan out”.

“Hmph, now we know why Dennis interfered in everything”, Howard said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Hi, ballbags”, Naboo said, coming over to their table, holding hands with Dennis.

“Naboo, we're sorry about everything”, Howard said. “I let you down at the last minute”.

“It's alright, ballbag. It all worked out. Sort of”.

“And Howard, now I know that all you wanted to do was save my sweet little Naboo's life, I'm sorry I was so suspicious of you”, Dennis said. “I was mostly just jealous. I hope you'll accept my apology”.

“Yes, of course”, said Howard, holding out his hand to shake, and slightly regretting it when he discovered what a very powerful grip Dennis had. “And I forgive you for making Vince take a Truth Potion – I'm just glad it didn't make him sick”.

“Truth Potion?”, asked Naboo vaguely. “What Truth Potion?”.

“Ah, I told Howard and Vince I had a Truth Potion”, confessed Dennis in some embarrassment. “Of course, there isn't any such thing, as Truth is so personal and relative, but I was banking on a powerful placebo effect taking place”.

“So what did I drink?”, asked Vince.

“Water”, said Dennis. “I'm sorry for putting you under that pressure Vince, but I think you're happy with how things ended, too. I want to thank you for all your help with the wedding, and for … well, helping me see things differently”.

“How's that?”, Vince wanted to know.

“Seeing you kiss Howard on the roof that night made me rethink some basic principles. And that helped me to understand my feelings for Naboo”.

“So ballbags, me and Bollo are going to be spending my honeymoon at Dennis' house”, Naboo said. “You two are welcome to crash at my place if you want to hang around Xooberon”.

“Actually, Naboo, we should probably get back to the shop”, said Howard. “You know, lots to do. New stock to organise. Stuff to sell”.

“In other words, you two ballbags are planning to bum each other senseless while I'm away, yeah?”, said Naboo.

Howard looked shifty, and Vince giggled.

“Oh well, the offer's open if you change your mind”, Naboo said. “Any time you want a holiday on Xooberon, use this amulet, and stay at my place”. He tossed Howard a gold necklace with a strange pendant on it.

“I think we'd rather stay at the apartment Dennis chose for us, if you don't mind”, Howard said. “Maroo has made us very comfortable there, and we prefer small, cosy places”.

“Suit yourself”, said Naboo. “Don't forget to visit if you're ever on Xooberon, though”.

“You bet”, said Vince. “Have a happy honeymoon, you two”.

Dennis smiled as he led his new spouse away, Vince and Howard waving to them until they disappeared into a big crowd of well-wishers.

“Do you want to dance, Vince?”, Howard asked.

“Depends what they're playing”, Vince said cautiously.

“And now get ready Macheads”, Tony Harrison shouted, “We've got _Tusk_ , in its entirety, with the pauses, as Lindsey Buckingham intended it to be heard!”.

“Actually, let's just go home”, Vince said.

“You're right, Vince. It feels like we've been on Xooberon for about a month”.

Just as they were leaving, a small woman who looked like one of Naboo's countless relatives stopped them inside the doorway.

“Hello again”, she said coolly. “I told you it would all work out, didn't I?”.

For a moment they both gaped at her, then Howard exclaimed, “You're the Oracle!”.

“That's right”, she smiled. “And Naboo's youngest sister, Nooba. I never could resist getting involved in a prank against my brother”.

****************************************

There wasn't much else left for them to do. They took a taxi back to the apartment to get their stuff and say goodbye to Maroo (the taxi ride convinced Howard that flying carpets were far less alarming). It felt strange to get back into their old clothes, and Vince insisted they bring all their Xooberon clothes with them, which he thought would blow the minds of everyone in Camden. He quietly packed the foot soak and massage oil too, now that he knew the importance of taking care of feet.

They went into Maroo's little shop, where she naturally demanded to know what had happened to Howard's new husband. They filled her in on the details, and she declared that she would have loved to have been at the wedding to see all the fun.

“I knew you were a couple! I just knew it!”, Maroo kept saying, like an Agatha Christie reader who spotted the red herring on page 16 and has never been able to let go of it.

Howard and Vince thanked her for all her help, and gave her a pretty seashell necklace they had seen at the markets and thought she might like. And they gave her a Vince Noir Special and a Howard Moon Special, which she possibly liked even more than the necklace. To this day, Vince insists that he and Howard had a cheeky three-way with a lovely little dollybird while they were on holiday, to which Leroy sceptically replied, “Yeah, it's always on holiday, isn't it, Vince?”.

They also offered Maroo all the money they had left over from when Dennis had tried to make them buy something fabulously expensive for the Poberdys, but they'd bought a reasonably-priced houseplant instead.

“I can't possibly accept that much money!”, Maroo said in shock. “Dennis has already paid for everything, and you've given me a present as well”.

“Well, how about you keep it for us, and if we ever want a holiday in Xooberon City, we'll come and stay here?”, Howard suggested.

Maroo agreed that sounded like a good idea, then asked, “So, when are you two going to get married? You could spend your honeymoon on Xooberon”.

Howard gave Vince a little look, and said, “Actually, this whole thing's put me off weddings for a while. They're very stressful, expensive, and a lot of work. I think Vince and I should concentrate on our relationship for a while yet. We've got a lot of things to talk about”.

“We'll see”, said Vince, giving Maroo a wink, then they joined hands, Howard pressed the amulet, and they blinked out of existence.

****************************************

They blinked back into existence a nanosecond later, and found themselves standing outside the Nabootique at around five o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon in very early spring.

“So much quicker than a flying carpet”, Vince said.

“I absolutely must have a cup of tea”, Howard said urgently, and led a mad dash upstairs to the kitchen, where he pulled out their mugs and the comforting red and green box with its familiar picture of sheep on the moors, and the reassuring news that you were drinking _Proper Black Tea_.

Fifteen minutes later he was ensconced in his favourite armchair, with a mug of tea by his side, and Vince curled up in his lap. Vince ran his fingers through Howard's hair, and nuzzled his stubbly face. Howard started off with a bashful Howard Moon Special that went on to proper snogging, and ended with his hands under Vince's baggy jumper, exploring what was underneath.

“I love all your jumpsuits”, Howard mumbled into Vince's ear.

“ _Cheekbone_ said jumpsuits are well naff”, Vince said sulkily.

Howard made several increasingly obscene suggestions as to where _Cheekbone_ might like to stuff itself, before confessing he was completely done in.

“It's jet lag”, said Vince. “Or space lag, which is probably worse”.

“I'm going to have to go to bed”, said Howard, taking a big swig of tea.

“Can we both sleep in your bed?”, asked Vince.

“Of course”, said Howard, standing up while still holding onto Vince. “But we're going to get ourselves a proper bed to share tomorrow”.

“Are we going to bum each other senseless, like Naboo said?”, asked Vince, trying not to giggle, and failing.

“Mm … maybe not straight away”, said Howard with a dirty-looking smirk. “I'd like to hear more about what you wanted to do in the bathroom”.

Vince put his lips to Howard's ear, and muttered something.

“Yeah, that sounds like a pretty good place to start”, Howard said, his deep voice sounding absolutely filthy, as he picked Vince up to carry him off to the bedroom.

As we say goodbye to Howard and Vince for now, we can watch through the bedroom door as Howard throws Vince on the bed, so light that he barely makes the mattress bounce. And we can see Howard lean down and kiss him deeply, one hand already undoing his red leather jumpsuit.

Just then Howard can be seen in the door frame, as he closes it so that all we can see is his face peering out.

“Do you mind, sir? I have some private business to attend to. And the shop is closed until further notice”.

The door clicks shut.

****************************************

Three hours later the new issue of _Cheekbone_ came out, with the headline: _Jumping Jack News Flash!: The Joan Jett look is back, and it's time to zip up your jumpsuits_.

Vince didn't bother reading it.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve used occasional references to various sci-fi and fantasy works in the story. You might have fun spotting them, and if you miss one, it doesn’t affect the story in the least.
> 
> The Oracle is based on the woman on the High Priestess tarot card in the Rider-Waite deck. I noticed she looks a lot like Naboo.
> 
> The idea that shamans are all very wealthy and desirable as marital partners came from a stage show where Tony Harrison said he lived in a mansion and was married to a Venezualan beauty queen. 
> 
> Captain Oates: Captain Lawrence Oates (1880-1912), the Antarctic explorer who bravely gave up his life during Robert Scott’s expedition to the South Pole. With food supplies very low, and Oates struggling to keep going, he walked out of his tent during a blizzard, with the words, “I am just going outside, and may be some time”. His body was never discovered. 
> 
> The song is “Sweet Marie”, a 1976 ballad by Thin Lizzy. The band’s guitarist at one time was Gary Moore, one of Julian’s guitar heroes, although he doesn’t play on this song, unfortunately. 
> 
> I am indebted for the idea that Tony Harrison and Saboo are lawyers (already having divorce papers ready) to blackmountainbones and Bob Skeleton, who told us this interesting fact in "Close Encounters of the Boosh Kind". 
> 
> The box of tea Howard uses is Yorkshire Tea.


End file.
